


The Call of the Night

by Pdxtrent



Series: Of the Night [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale is Not a Failwolf, F/M, Full Shift Werewolves, Honestly just the slowest burn, I still don't understand tags, It has fluffy werewolf petting, Its an AU where people don't always make terrible decisions, Jackson is an asshole but he’s our asshole, M/M, Oh! And Alive!Laura, Part Two, Pre-Slash, Scott is not the main character, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Werewolf Allison Argent, fixit, sterek is endgame be patient, two days later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-04-08 00:46:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 47,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pdxtrent/pseuds/Pdxtrent
Summary: After the events of week of the Wolf Moon, Agent Rafael McCall seems determined to uncover all of the secrets everyone is keeping, and Derek and Stiles begin to worry about exactly what he plans to do with that information.At the same time, Laura and the newly forming pack are dealing with Derek’s new alpha power and trying to help Jackson deal with his new problems as well.This is part two of a continuing story, there’s a brief synopsis of what came before that I’ve added, in case you want to dive in on part two. But there’s a lot of details in part one that will be helpful going forward.This is gradually going to become more AU as things progress, because unlike the show there are ramifications for actions in my world.If you want to know where this starts to depart from the Teen Wolf universe, it’s probably around ten years in the past when Deucalion attacked Allison Argent, and was put down for it with the assistance of several wolf packs. Enjoy!





	1. Our Story so far

       It’s been five years since the Hale Fire which killed almost every member of Derek and Laura’s werewolf family. Laura had returned to Beacon Hills to take care of some family business when she goes missing, pulling Derek back to his hometown and all of its memories. 

         Once he arrived, he discovered that things are more complicated than he thought, with bodies piling up and a rogue alpha biting the teen-aged best friend of the county sheriff. Derek found himself stretched thin trying to both look for his sister and help the new werewolf make it through his first full moon, and his first transformation. 

       Fortunately, he's not alone, Scott’s best friend Stiles has been right in the middle of things since the night Scott was bit, and his father, the sheriff, informed of the Hales werewolf secret, has been helping search for missing Laura. 

        Eventually Derek is able to set a trap for the Hunters who had captured Laura, and with the help of a few betas from a neighboring pack, including the remarkable Allison Argent, Derek is able to rescue Laura, but in the process he alerts Kate Argent to his presence. Kate is  Allison’s aunt, and the woman who once seduced Derek for information she then used to burn down his family home. 

         Kate manages to capture Derek, and is holding him captive in the ruins of the old Hale house, when the rest of the werewolves finally figure out who the rogue alpha is, and it turns out it is Peter Hale, who’s being mind-controlled by his nurse, Jennifer Martin. Peter is the only other survivor of the Hale Fire, and became an alpha when he killed one in the Preserve during one of the night runs Jennifer sends him out on. They discover this while listening in as Jackson Whittemore, who was also bit by the rogue alpha, gives his statement to the police.

        After Jennifer dies while Laura and the betas are trying to rescue Peter, the rogue gets free and runs off. Stiles agrees to meet Laura at the Hale House the next morning to drop off some maps of the Preserve to help coordinate the search, but when he arrives he’s surprised by Kate, who’s already aware of Stiles connection to the Hales. 

        Eventually Stiles and Derek are able to get free, though in the process Kate dies and Stiles gets stabbed in the leg. As they go to leave they encounter the still feral Peter, and in the struggle Derek kills him, becoming an alpha himself, and flees into the deep woods where eventually Laura is able to track him down, and stiles ends up in the hospital from a fortunately mild dose of aconite poisoning from Kate’s knife. 

        All of this happened in two weeks in January, around the full moon. 

        Now it’s two days later. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly my opinion is that you should read part one first, but if you want to skip it just know you’re missing a lot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go on the second 'book'. This starts about 36 hours after 'Under the Wolf Moon' ends, and deals with a lot of the fall out of what happened in that. As always, thank you to Snowqueenlou, and I hope you all love this.

 

Wednesday January 18th 2011

Beacon Hills, California

630am

 

     The alarm clock was a cruel mistress Stiles decided with a groan as he reached over and smashed it until it turned off. The yip and growl in the corner alerted him that he was not alone in his room again this morning. He rolled over and looked at the giant wolf sitting alert in the corner with a guilty look on his face.

     “Snuck in again I see.” Stiles said with a smile. “Good thing I was sort of expecting it this time.” He hadn't been expecting it the previous morning, and had thrown an unfortunately convenient lacrosse ball at the startled wolf. Luckily Derek had supernaturally quick reflexes even when startled awake and had caught the ball out of the air. Stiles was pretty sure that counted as playing fetch.

      Laura had explained that the newly-made alpha’s pack instincts had likely driven Derek towards pack in the middle of the night, and he clearly considered Stiles to be close enough to pack to count. Derek who had still not resumed his human shape since Monday when he’d first shown up at the Stilinski home didn’t say anything. He just spent his time as close as he could get to either the senior or junior member of the household, trying not to make eye contact, and avoiding Laura altogether.

      Stiles had spent a very annoying Tuesday not being invisible at school since rumors were already spreading about Kate Argent, and trying hard to navigate the treacherous crutches between classes. He’d already decided to abandon the damn things in his Jeep before starting school for the day, and just suffering.

      After school he’d met with the lawyer Laura had tracked down for him, telling him not to worry about the cost because she’d cover it. He had a moment where he remembered with guilt the thick packet of cash he’d hidden before bed on Monday. But both the cash and the guns were things he wanted to not think about yet, so under the loose floorboard they had gone.

      “Are you ready to try human on for the day today?” Stiles said after a moment.

      Derek ducked his head and slumped back to the floor.

     “I’d say you can’t run from your problems, but clearly you in fact can. And no one except Laura will find you if you do.” Stiles sighed as the wolf continued to avoid looking at him. “I kinda miss your surly sarcasm dude. How bout you change back for breakfast and you can go back to wolf when I leave for school if you want?”

Derek closed his eyes.

     “I’ll make bacon!”

     No response from the corner.

     “Waffles?”

     Still no response.

     “Pancakes with fresh fruit?”

     Nothing.

     “Steak breakfast burritos?”

     There was a twitch of an ear.

     “With eggs, and sour cream, mmmmm, and cheese.”

      Derek’s eyes opened, and his ears twitched again. His tail beat against the wall a time or two.

      Stiles smiled. “I’ll leave your clothes here and see you downstairs dude.”

      He had just finished slicing the steak and was dropping it into the frying pan when suddenly Derek was standing next to him wearing one of Stiles giant oversized lacrosse practice T-shirt’s and the sweatpants Laura had brought him from the hotel.

      Stiles flailed before shouting, “Jesus dude! Make some noise.”

     “I did.”

      “Maybe for your wolfy ears, but for us mere mortals, you move freakishly quiet. How did you make it down the stairs without hitting the squeaky steps?”

     “I counted which ones squeaked when you stepped on them and skipped them,” Derek replied smugly.

     “You’re a menace,” Stiles griped at him. “For that I’m burning your steak.”

     “You’re cooking it, so it’s already over-cooked.”

      Stiles glared, “I don’t honestly know if that was an insult to my cooking or a reference to how you like your steak. But fuck off either way.”

      Derek smirked again.

      Stiles stirred the steak in the pan. “I assumed you’d be hungry since you haven’t eaten for awhile,” he said quietly, “so I’m making a lot.”

     “I can eat a lot, so that works.”

     They stood in silence for a long moment with only the sound of the cooking meat to break it, then Stiles said, “It’s good to see your grumpy face again. Not that I don’t love your furry face, but I like talking to you too.”

     “Sorry. It’s easier to deal with things sometimes as the wolf. Priorities are different, the alpha power doesn’t feel as strange.”

      “Sounds like avoidance to me. Laura said the alpha thing was a lot like going from being a human to a wolf, that it’s a transformation of another kind.”

       Derek just nodded. “I never expected to be an alpha, I’m not-” he paused for a moment, “no one ever expected me to be an alpha, that was always Laura. I don’t even know what to do, I don’t think I’m really alpha material.”

       Stiles turned and looked at Derek as he stirred the sizzling steak. “Dude are you for real? Did you not just keep the whole ‘searching for Laura’ thing going? Not just finding her, but kicking ass on a whole bunch of Hunters at the same time. Scott, who has so many issues with authority figures it’s not even funny, thinks you’re not so bad, and Allison thinks you’re awesome. So maybe cut yourself some slack on the whole ‘not alpha material’. You may not be the same type of alpha that Laura is, but you do pretty damn good at building and leading a team that respects you and thinks you’re pretty awesome.”

      Derek gave him a shy smile. “So you think I have potential?”

      Stiles rolled his eyes, “Yeah Kit De Luca, we think you’ve got a lot of potential.”

      A confused look flashed across Derek’s face for a moment until he got the reference, “Oh my god, did you really just quote Pretty Woman at me, who are you?”

      Stiles laughed. “Don’t even with me Derek Hale. You totally got that reference in like 3 seconds, I knew you were a total sap.”

      “It was one of my mom’s favorites,” Derek replied with a smile.

      Stiles grinned at him, “Was she a big fan of romcoms? That doesn’t fit the whole ‘grrrr alpha’ vision I had in my head of her.”

      Derek shrugged, “Not really exactly. She didn’t have a lot of time for movies between work and pack stuff. But I think it held some memory for her with my dad, cause they’d quote it at each other and laugh.”

     “What was he like?” Stiles slid the steak onto a plate and poured the scrambled egg mixture into the hot pan.

     Derek caught his lip between his teeth, “Laura always says I’m just like him. I’m not so sure. He wasn’t as hard to deal with as I can be, definitely not as sarcastic. He did what he thought was right, always. He wasn’t someone who’d be flexible in his morals. God he fought with-“ Derek winced, “he and Uncle Peter were very different. Peter was always really goal oriented, but the means were flexible to him. I don’t think I really understood that difference between them, then. But now, looking back, I see it.”

      Stiles was quiet as the eggs cooked for a couple of minutes before he turned back and said, “You know Laura isn’t mad about what happened don’t you?”

      Derek froze, and Stiles knew he was about to bolt.

      “We don’t have to talk about it. And I won’t bring it up again unless you do, but she knows it was an accident, no one blames you.”

      “I blame me,” Derek said in a whisper. “Everyone keeps saying I’m not to blame for the fire, and now I’m not to blame for Peter, but I blame me.”

       Stiles leaned sideways and poked Derek lightly with an elbow, “We’re done with that conversation for now. I just wanted to make sure you know. There’s things Laura and Dad need to talk to you about, Scott’s Dad is in town so there’s a thing.”

      “What does Scott’s Dad have to do with anything?”

      “Dude, did I not tell you? He’s like some big shot asshole FBI guy. Apparently Kate was on their radar, and when she turned up here they sent him.”

       Derek stiffened.

       “So yeah, they need to get you on the same page as far as what they’re telling him. Cause werewolves are probably not going to fly.” He shook some salt and pepper over the cooking eggs, then continued, “Laura talked to me about what it was like in wolf form. She said it was hard to remember conversation. She said you can understand it just fine as it’s happening, but it doesn’t always get remembered well.”

      Derek nodded, “That’s accurate,” he continued, as Stiles started piling eggs onto the tortillas he’d pulled out of the oven and covering them with steak and cheese, “sound, scent, and motion of the now become most important. Conversation depends on keeping track of words in the past, and anticipating the future. It’s not relevant to the wolf, so it’s hard to focus on it, and hard to remember it.”

     “She said you probably came here because you felt safe here, with me and my Dad.”

      Derek nodded, “You’re pack, to me at least, in my head. But my wolf didn’t want others wolves around while the alpha power was doing its thing.”

      “Dad and I talked, like, we’re fine with that. We like you, both of us. You’re sarcastic, and the eye-rolling grumpy thing is hilarious, and we both think of you as a friend. You’re like always welcome here. I think it’s the same as you mean by pack really. You’re someone we want in our lives. And on that subject, Dad wants you to move into the spare room after Scott’s Dad is done poking around. Like while you’re getting your place ready.”

        “Your Dad is okay with this idea?”

       “Dude, this is his idea! Eventually Laura is going to head back to school, and Dad doesn’t want you brooding around that hotel room glaring at people and stuff. So yeah, that’s pack isn’t it?”

       Derek smiled, “That's pack, yes.”

       Stiles grinned, “Laura said you’d argue way more. I totally told her you wouldn’t argue because you wanted my magic petting fingers around.”

       Derek snorted, “You mean you want to treat me like your pet dog and convince me to play fetch with you.”

       “You’re not a dog Derek! You’re just, you know, fluffy, and puppy shaped. It’s like the werewolf version of playing catch right?”

      Derek laughed, “Sure Stiles, But I swear to god, if you ever talk to me in that bullshit baby-talk voice people use on their pets I will rip your throat out with my teeth.”

      “Jesus dude, aggro much?”

      “Just making my limits clear on the whole subject of fetch.”

       “That seems reasonable. The teeth ripping thing, not so reasonable, though understandable. How ‘bout a pink collar with rhinestones?”

        Derek blinked. “Stiles, why would I care if you want to wear a pink collar with rhinestones? Do what makes you happy.”

        “I meant you,” Stiles said in an outraged tone. “You in the collar.”

        “If you try to put a collar on me you’ll get what you deserve,” Derek said with an evil glint in his eye.

 

745am

     After breakfast Derek had done the dishes while Stiles went up to get ready for school. When he went to leave Derek followed him out onto the porch where Stiles gave him a list of things he should do including talk to Laura, talk to his dad, and reply to the calls and texts on his phone which Stiles had charged up for him while he’d gone wolf. Then he eased into his Jeep, hissing when the movement pulled at his stitches, and headed off to pick up Scott.

      Pulling up to the McCall house Stiles left the engine running. He knew Scott could hear him inside, so he started singing the Spice Girls ‘Wannabe’ which he knew Scott hated with a passion. He’d tried ‘Barbie Girl’ once, but he was horrified to discover Scott actually liked that one. Stiles honestly had no idea where Scott’s shitty taste in music came from, because Melissa had amazing taste. Thinking about it for a moment, he decided it was probably his dad.

       Scott came bounding out of the house and piled into the passenger side just as Stiles pointed at him and sang “really really wanna zigazig ha”.

       “Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?” Scott whined.

       “Hey Scotty!” Stiles chirped. “So, update on Derek is that he has returned, at least temporarily, to the upright broody and sarcastic form. Plus holy hell, dude ate four huge breakfast burritos.”

       “Thank god! Is he going to talk to Laura? Who knows how long she can push my dad off.”

       “I told him to, but, you know, who knows if he’ll do it. He seems ok, but I’m pretty sure it’s an act. He totally creeperwolfed into my room again last night, so Laura nailed that one.”

        “Did you tell him about your dad's idea?”

        “He didn’t even argue,” Stiles said with a smirk, “Laura totally owes me $20 now.”

        “That was a total sucker bet.”

        “Right?” Stiles said. “Cause I’m awesome, who wouldn’t want to live with me? And I mean, dad’s alright too.”

        “I think your dad is just hoping that if Derek is there you’ll let him have some red meat.”

        “It’s already started! I noticed a package of steak in the fridge last night, so I made Derek steak breakfast burritos this morning and used it all up. Honestly, what was he even thinking? I was stabbed in my leg not in the eyes, there was no way that was going to slip past me.”

        They chatted the rest of the short way to school, and when they got parked Stiles carefully slid out and grabbed his bag and they talked and walked slowly to the doors. Just as they got there Jackson and Lydia sauntered past deep in conversation.

       “Hey Lydia,” Stiles said a little louder, “you look-“ he grimaced as she walked past, “right, yeah, like you’re going to ignore me.”

       “Still on the five year plan?” Scott murmured as Jackson looked back with a glare.

       “Yes Scott my man, this is all part of the plan.” Stiles met Jackson’s eyes which narrowed as he opened the door for Lydia. As she walked in Jackson let the door close behind them after one last glare at Stiles.

        Stiles stopped walking and looked at Scott, a terrible thought crossing his mind. “Scott, did you notice anything different about Jackson this morning?”

       “Different how? Did Jackson get a haircut or something?”

       “Different like ‘danger of going furry’ Scott, remember I told you on Sunday night that Jackson was attacked by Peter? What if his bite worked too? I’d forgotten it among everything else, but holy shit, I’m not sure I’m up for a werewolf Jackson. He’s enough of a dick without superpowers.”

        “Are you going to ask him ‘hey by the way Jackson, are you noticing any changes since you got attacked’ or something?”

        “No,” Stiles said, irritated. “I’m going to call in an expert.”

        “Derek?”

        “No. Laura.” Stiles grinned. “It’s Wednesday, so open campus for lunch. I’m going to see if Laura is in the mood to go to lunch. Your job is to listen in on Jackson and Lydia’s conversations this morning to help me figure out where they’re going at lunchtime.”

        “I don’t know how to focus it like that yet!” Scott protested.

        “I have faith in you buddy, and there’s no time like the present to practice your new werewolfy skills.”

        “I hate you,” Scott complained.

        “I’m the gift that keeps on giving Scotty. Bringing joy and life to your otherwise boring existence.”

         “Hate hate hate.” Scott grumbled, and opened the door for Stiles to limp through into the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think I'd forgotten Jacks? Nonono. And of course, my Lydia, I've missed writing her, it'll be good to have her back.  
> And my poor Derek, still not as tortured as Season 1 of canon had him, but I always felt he should be more upset about Peter. Though I guess canon Peter killing Laura probably had a lot to do with that.


	3. Chapter 3

835am

      

      In the desk beside her, Jackson jumped slightly and shook his head when the bell rang to end first period. Lydia glanced at him and frowned, Jackson had been off all morning. He’d made a face when he’d taken a drink of his usual Starbucks order, and had been fidgeting in a way that was very out of character. Jackson usually had laser focus during class, driven by his overwhelming need to succeed.

     As they walked out of class she pulled him to the side and whispered into his ear, “What is wrong with you today?”

     “I don’t know!” he whispered back urgently, “It’s like everything is really loud today, and I can’t sit still.”

     “Is this a side effect of the rabies shot?”

     “All they said was redness or swelling,” Jackson replied.

     They started walking down the hall as Lydia googled. “Well, the good news is that those aren’t side effects of the vaccine,” but then continued, “They are however symptoms of rabies, so there is definitely no kissing me in your immediate future, and I have a call to my doctor to make after kissing you last night and this morning. You have an appointment this evening to have the plastic surgeon check your bite right? Maybe I’ll go along.”

     “Rabies?” Jackson hissed, “I thought that’s why they gave me the shot, so I didn’t develop it.”

     “And there’s the irritation. Another symptom.”

     “I think this is my normal level of irritation Lydia.”

     “It’s hard to tell Jacks.” She smiled slightly, “Wait, I know how to check.” She scanned the hall and seeing exactly what she was looking for. “Look over at Stiles, what do you feel?”

     Jackson glanced down the hall, “A deep desire to shove him into a locker.”

      “Okay, Yes, that does seem like a normal level of irritation for you.”

     Jackson rolled his eyes, but then narrowed them, “He’s talking about me.”

      “Jackson, he’s 50 yards away with 100 people between us, I don’t think you can tell what he’s saying.”

      “I can though. He’s talking to McCall about my symptoms. About side effects of the bite. That fucker knows that dog had rabies somehow.”

      “What else is he saying?” Lydia asked.

      “I’m not sure, I lost the conversation, now all I can hear is Greenberg complaining about stains on his jersey.”

      Lydia’s eyes swept the halls. Greenberg was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes went back to the list of symptoms and caught on one word: hallucinations.

 

945am

     Derek had been expecting the knock of course. He’d heard the Camaro park on the street minutes before. Had heard Laura take a deep breath before getting out of the car. He heard the pause before she knocked on the door. He’d had time to decide if he was going to shift back, or if he was finally ready to talk to his alpha. His sister. He opened the door after only a moment of hesitation.

      He saw Laura give him a quick once over, though what she was checking for he wasn’t sure, all of his scars are on the inside. “Derek,” she said after a moment.

     “Laura.”

     She gave him a shaky smile, “You’re such an ass.”

     “Stop sounding like mom.”

     “Then stop being an ass little brother,” she teased. “I’m glad you’re you again.”

     “Stiles bribed me with breakfast burritos. Steak.”

     “I should have recommended that. What was I thinking.”

     “I assume you were hoping to save them all for yourself,” Derek replied as he stepped out of the way to let her in.

     She leaned in and pressed herself against Derek in a way that might seem intimate to a stranger, but was all about the scent of pack. After most of a month of being apart, Derek smelled more like Stiles than her. Derek tensed for a moment, and then relaxed into her, the scent of family, of his alpha, easing something in him. After a moment they pulled apart and he followed her into the kitchen. She moved hesitantly, not quite remembering where things were from her one visit, but eventually finding the coffee cups and pouring herself a cup from the cooling pot that Stiles had made with breakfast that morning.

     “I still don’t know how you can drink that stuff,” Derek said with a slight grin, bringing up a topic they’d argued so many times that it was a well worn routine they could always fall into.

     “Says the guy who drinks hot chocolate like a four year old.”

     She sat down at the table next to him. “Stiles called you?” he finally asked.

     “He texted. Said he wasn’t sure if you’d go back wolf or not, but that you’d at least eaten. How are you feeling?”

      “Better. It’s still a lot. Peter, and Kate. The alpha thing.”

      “We don’t need to talk about it, but I know you didn’t intend what happened with Peter.”

      Derek flinched. “I was trying to keep his attention on me. It was like fighting only his wolf. Both times I fought with him it felt that way. You know how Peter was, he was fast and unexpected, and endlessly clever. This was the opposite of that, there was no-” he searched for a word for a minute, “no intellect driving him. And when I went to slash across his chest he turned, and-” He couldn’t finish, just shuddered and closed his eyes.

     “Deaton has the body, he called me about the spell the witch was using to keep him docile. The way the spell was set up it was designed to suppress the human side. It looks like it had been in place for some time, probably months. The witch was his nurse, Jennifer Martin. Deaton was familiar with the family. Apparently her mother was a well known wailing woman.”

    “A banshee? In Beacon Hills?”

    Laura nodded. “Her name was Loraine. Apparently mom knew her, though not well, and Loraine had already slipped into a kind of madness by the time of the fire.  According to Deaton, banshees are prone to that when they’re not anchored deeply enough in the present. She died at Eichen House.”

    Derek shuddered again at the name of the notorious USSI supernatural prison attached to a local sanitarium. His mother had worked for more than a decade to get the USSI to move the worst of the supernatural prisoners to a more secure facility, but the aura of evil still clung to the building.

     “Is that why he didn’t change back when he died?”

     “Probably. There’s not a lot of information about what happens to wolves when they’re controlled by compulsion spells like that. Mostly because books on those spells are destroyed as often as possible. He also said there was probably no way to break the spell, because a compulsion is built into blood and bone to cage the spirit. Even killing the witch doesn’t release them.”

     “We should have protected him better,” Derek said, misery creating an acrid scent in the air.

     “We did the best we could Derek. He was protected against Hunters, we didn’t think about witches. You can’t plan for everything.”

     Derek nodded.

     “John wants to talk to you about the story we’ve put together for the FBI. Are you going to be okay to talk to him about that?”

     Derek nodded again, the miserable smell fading. “Yeah, Stiles mentioned it. Scott’s dad apparently, because that’s how fucking small the world is. Do you have a contact at USSI we should reach out to about this?”

     “No. I’m sure mom did, but I’ve never needed to deal with any of them except that one asshole after the fire. I’m supposed to meet with Satomi on Monday to thank her for loaning us her betas and I can ask her then if she knows anyone. But USSI is pretty much run by Hunters for Hunters these days, so I doubt there’s going to be much help there.”

      “Where is John? Stiles didn’t say, and he left before Stiles got up this morning.”

      “He’s trying to keep on top of the paperwork. There’s a whole bunch of cases all tied together, plus the Hunters he arrested all have hearings this week. The DA wants to talk to you as well as agent McCall, and Chris Argent wants to meet with us tonight.”

      “So another busy week?”

       “Yes. The good news is there was no frame damage on your 4Runner, and Remy was able to get the parts to fix it. He said he should have it done in a couple of weeks.”

        Derek nodded. “I guess I’m going to need to get another rental. I’m also supposed to meet the building inspector on Friday about the building I’m thinking about buying.”

       “We need to get a calendar,” Laura said with a smile. “Also, way to go on the adulting. In New York I couldn’t even get you to move into the apartment across the hall. Here you’re buying a whole building to spread out in.”

        Derek blushed slightly then replied in a surly voice, “I figured I’d build you out your own apartment for when you’re in town, and maybe like a pack area on the second floor. And I haven’t technically bought it yet.”

       “Anything is better than that warehouse. The scent of wolfsbane just lingers in there.”

       “So, on a weird ‘property we apparently own’ question, any idea why mom bought the old train station?”

       Laura looked startled and then laughed. “Oh my god! I totally forgot about that! I do remember that.”

      “I mean, it turned out to be useful, but it’s kind of a weird thing to buy.”

       “Okay, so there’s this long backstory to this. Like almost 20 years ago, a few years after mom first took over the alphahood from gramps, there was this alpha who started building this network of wolves, which is great, except they were basically werewolf supremacists. His own territory was out in the desert, they even called him ‘the desert wolf’ or some nonsense. But there wasn’t much to the territory, no crossroads or anything to make it a desirable territory, so it was a bad location to build a power base from.” She paused, thinking for a moment.

     “Deucalion! That was his name! God, how’d I forget something as old school as that. Anyway, he bought the old train station when the railroad decided to sell it off because it’s right by the part of the Preserve where the crossroads are. He was pretty clearly angling to challenge mom, but he hadn’t gotten around to trying to it before he got involved with a pack war, then some Hunters got involved. He pissed off the Hunters and ended up getting killed, and his pack was eliminated. So when the pack trust was liquidated, mom took the opportunity to buy the property at a really good price.”

       “So she didn’t really have a plan,” Derek said with a smile.

       “No, are you thinking about renovating that too?”

       Derek shrugged, “I’m just considering my options. I thought mom might have had a purpose in mind. That’s where we took Scott for his first full moon, and it’s built like a fortress.”

       “No purpose that I know of, she was just closing off another easy route into the part of the Preserve closest to the crossroads I think.”

       “Maybe I’ll take another look at it if this building doesn’t work out.”

        “It might be a better location.” She pursed her lips slightly. “I suppose we should talk about the house. The county has been sending letters about it for a few years now. We’ve held them off by bringing up our grief and school, but one of the county commissioners is really pushing for the property to be condemned and turned over to the county. So we need to do something fairly soon.”

       Derek stilled. A deep panic building up, but Laura reached out and touched him, helping ground him. He looked in her eyes. “We have some time, it’s currently a crime scene in an active investigation, we don’t have to decide anything today. But we need to do something. If they take the house, they’ll take the rest of the property too, and we can’t allow that.”

     He nodded.

     “I want to start training you on your alpha power this week too. There’s a lot you need to know, and with everything going on, we need to get you started soon. You know the Hunters will be back.”

     

1020am

     Stiles had only two classes with Jackson, which he was normally thrilled by, but by the middle of Economics he had found he was both convinced that Finstock’s understanding of 21st century micro-economic models was a little lacking, and that Jackson’s bite was taking. He slid his phone out to text Laura, but saw her response to his earlier text about Derek that she was going to head over to see him and he didn’t want to interrupt that, but he really felt the need for an expert opinion.

     He thought about calling Billy, but he knew that a random twenty-five year old, even one who looked as unassuming as Billy, would get questioned on school grounds. Then he realized the same logic applied to Laura as well. Why were all of his friends suddenly so inconveniently old?

     But Allison was due to start school later that week anyway. And he realized that she would be perfect. Finstock glanced back his direction and he slid his phone back out of sight.

      As he listened to coach lecture about highly questionable economic models, he tried to hold still but stress tended to make the symptoms of his ADHD worse, and he kept shifting in his seat, and drumming his pencil against his notebook. Four rows over and one ahead, Jackson turned and glared at him. Stiles froze, looking down at his pencil, looking back at Jackson, and then pointed. Jackson’s glare got more intense, and then he nodded once. Stiles set his pencil down on his notebook, trying hard not to antagonize the freshly bitten wolf.

     Across the room he could see Jackson’s eyes widen, and Stiles wondered what had happened, what Jackson’s no doubt newly emerging senses were telling him. He whispered as quietly as he could, “Jackson, can you hear me?”

     Jackson twitched and glared harder at Stiles, and Stiles was certain that a disaster was imminent at any moment.

     “Jackson, I know you hate me, and no problem, I promise it’s completely mutual. But you need to calm down and relax. The more you stress out the worse it’s going to be. Try to think about something calming. Like-” Stiles paused, “Fuck, I don’t know what you find calming. Waxing your Porsche or something, or ordering around your servants or some other rich person bullshit.”

     Jackson rolled his eyes, but Stiles could see him trying to calm himself.

     Stiles continued with his super soft commentary, thinking back to Derek and Allison with Scott on the full moon, “Try to focus on your heartbeat maybe.” He kept up the litany and gradually he could see Jackson start to relax. Enough that when the bell rang Jackson actually jerked in his seat. Stiles stayed frozen, not sure if it was safest to not move or to try and get away as fast as possible. Jackson stood up and waited as all the other students emptied the room, and continued waiting until Stiles gathered his books and notebook.

      Stiles was sure that standing up and walking towards the door, and the baby werewolf that had hated him for years, was the bravest thing he’d ever done. As he passed Jackson, the lacrosse captain fell in beside him, but didn’t say anything.

     Stiles finally said, “I know it’s hard, but you’ll get through it.”

     Jackson snorted, “You don’t have to sugar coat it, it’s pretty permanent once it starts from what I understand.”

     “Well, yes. I didn’t even know you knew what was going on though.”

     “I knew it was a possibility, but Lydia’s the one who figured it out.”

     Stiles laughed a little. “Of course she would.” He looked at Jackson closely, “Are you going to be okay this afternoon? If you need anything, you can text, I’ll find a way to get out of class and help if I can. And if there’s an emergency I know people to call.”

      “I’ll be fine. It’s permanent, I’ll deal. It’s just the symptoms that are making me crazy.”

     “I bet. When S-” he froze for a second, “when someone I know got bit and the symptoms started I know how difficult it was. But you can learn to manage them with some effort, and god knows you’ve got the determination to keep control.”

     Jackson just looked at him, “Nothing personal, but I’ve never been anything but an asshole to you, why would you help me? What’s your deal Stilinski?”       

     Stiles shrugged, “Jesus dude, I hate you, I don’t want you dead. Plus if you go all aggro and kill someone I’m going to feel guilty. Well, maybe not Marshall. But with my luck it’ll be me. Besides I actually know what’s going on. And I know there’s not like there’s giant pool of other people just running around who will know how to help, so I’m kind of stuck with it.”

      Jackson grunted. “I swear to god Stilinski, if this is you fucking around with me, I will end your existence.”

       “There’s someone I know, you should talk to her. She understands all of this better than I do. Do you have some time this evening you can meet her?”

     Jackson glared murder again, “Don’t think that this makes us instantly friends Stilinski, but let me know where to meet you. We have a game Friday, so practice tonight is just conditioning and I should be done by 5, if I feel like it I might show up, though I have somewhere to be at 7.”

     “Hey asshole, I’m trying to help you. I’ll check with her and let you know if tonight works, but I’m not setting up this little play date if you aren't going to show up.”

     Jackson rolled his eyes and walks away from Stiles where the hall split without saying anything else.

      Stiles muttered _‘Thanks Stiles, no problem Jackass, happy to help! Hey Stiles, lets grab bubble tea on Saturday. Great idea Jax, glad I saved your stupid life.’_ As he pulled out his phone and sent Allison a quick text:

 

_Stiles: Can you come to the school? No big deal, just another werewolf problem._

      From down the hall Jackson shouted “I heard that dickmunch.”

      Stiles shouted back “I figured you would asshole!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I loved writing this chapter. The idea about rabies has been around for quite awhile but I haven't really had the place to address it, and this was perfect. It started with a comment from my beta/editor Snowqueenlou, and I really love how it worked out.  
> Writing Jackson proved more difficult than I thought it would be, because he's just so much more of an asshole than I am. But it was tons of fun, so I imagine there's a lot more to come. As always, comments feed my soul and my motivation.


	4. Chapter 4

415pm

      Finally getting some sleep had done wonders for Allison by Wednesday. Her dad had been quieter than usual, but they’d spent Tuesday afternoon looking at houses, and Wednesday they went back to compare the ones they liked best. They were down to arguing the merits of the two favorites. Allison preferred the cozy three bedroom bungalow with a basement that backed on the arm of the Preserve that cut deep into town, but which was not terribly far from the dead witch’s house. Her dad preferred the more upscale gated community, even though the house was far larger than they needed. 

        She glanced at her phone, “Dad I need to go meet Stiles at the school, it’s your house, pick the one you’re going to love.” 

       He gave her that strange haunted look he could get, “Ally, it’s your home too,” he said with emphasis. He stepped close and hesitated slightly before leaning in slowly to give her an awkward half hug.

       She knew she should respond, but the return to physical affection was new, this was only the third of these awkward encounters they’d had, and she was still surprised by them. “I know Dad,” she finally said, “I just mean I’ll be going to college in a couple of years, and then it’ll mostly just be you around. Get something you’re going to be comfortable in.” 

        He smiled as he moved back away, “What, you don’t think I’ll be moving to San Luis Obispo the minute you leave for school?” 

        His joke surprised a genuine laugh out of her. “Oh yeah, cause the Holman pack is going to let you just move right in.” 

        He smiled broadly, “Lugh would no doubt meet me on the border.” Like many of the most conservative and inflexible of old school alphas the Holman alpha had taken a name from ancient mythology and it spoke to his arrogance that he’d chosen Lugh. The alpha and Chris had been reluctant allies during the pack war and subsequent elimination of Deucalion's pack. But he’d refused Chris and his ‘mongrel’ daughter permission to settle there after Allison was bit, and the bad blood ran deep.

      “I’m not deciding tonight,” Chris finally said. “And maybe we should just get an apartment for awhile at first, and take our time looking.” 

      “I’m okay with that too Dad, really, I’m just ready to be done with the hotel.” She grabbed her purse off the bar, and headed for the door. “I’ll see you at dinner!” 

       They’d fallen into a more comfortable relationship since coming to Beacon Hills. Satomi has been right, of course, that working together would help them repair what was damaged. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t even great, but they were better and Allison was thrilled. She tumbled into her car and set out for the school. 

     She parked when she arrived and stepped out of the car. While trying to be inconspicuous, she inhaled deeply, analyzing the air to see what she could find. She caught the scent of wolves, Scott of course, and, she was surprised to find, a slight hint of Peter as well. She wondered what the witch had meant by bringing him here, or if he’d come on one of the nights he’d been roaming free.

       She didn’t detect this new wolf, Jackson, she remembered Stiles had called him. She drifted towards the school, past Stiles’ blue Jeep. She took a moment to run her fingers along it. Not conspicuous to anyone watching, but a chance to mark pack. 

       It was a strange feeling, having a pack. Not just being acknowledged and tolerated on the edges, but people who were actively invested in her, who called her when they needed someone at their back. It was new, and tentative, but it was the first time she’d ever felt like a part of the werewolf world from the inside, rather than just an observer. 

      She paused, listening for Stiles’ distinctive heartbeat, and followed where it led her. 

      She finally found him sitting at a table in a courtyard still lit by the late afternoon sun. She slipped into the seat across from him, but he didn’t move from where he was laser focused on whatever he was typing.

      When she had been there for almost ten minutes as Stiles typed away furiously at his keyboard, she finally said, “Stiles!” and he jerked in his seat.

     “Allison! Jesus, when did you get here?” 

     “Like five minutes ago maybe? You were super absorbed into whatever you were writing.” 

     “Yeah I had a paper to finish, so I took another Adderall, and apparently I was in a zone. Sorry.” 

     “No problem. Is your friend meeting us?” 

     “Ugh. Jackson is not my friend,” Stiles answered, “and probably, though he might not show just to prove how much better he is than us mere mortals.” 

      “And you said he already knows?” 

      “Yeah, apparently Lydia figured it out, the brilliant strawberry blonde goddess that she is.” 

      “She’s the one I met?” 

      “There can be only one.” 

      Allison laughed, “She was certainly forceful.” 

      Stiles smiled, “Right?” The admiration was obvious.

       “Scott thinks you’re in love with her.” 

       “Yep!” he replied, “She beat me on a spelling test in third grade and it was love at first defeat. But Jackson. I’m not sure if I’m going to be much help, he wants to kill me on a good day.” 

Allison smiled. “So what’s the deal with the two of you?”

       Stiles sat fidgeting with the pen he’d picked up. Then finally, he shrugged, “No clue really, hate at first sight maybe? We’ve all gone to school with each other forever, we were friends I guess in, like, first grade, but in junior high it changed. Whatever, he’s a dick.” 

       She sighed, “Well that’ll make this fun.”

      “Can we just ship him off to the worst alpha we can find?” 

      “That’s up to Laura and Derek.” 

       “Derek can be bribed with breakfast. I’ll figure out Laura soon enough.” 

        Rather than respond, Allison tilted her head, “There’s two people headed this way.”

       “Jackson and Lydia maybe?” 

       “Is he likely to bring her?”

       “Better question is could he manage to leave her behind.”

        A few minutes later Lydia, who she did recognize, and Jackson who she didn’t, came around the corner into the courtyard downwind of her, so she couldn’t tell if he was a wolf, but she trusted Stiles instincts.

       There was a flash of recognition when Lydia saw her and then a deeply thoughtful look. Allison watched them carefully, the way Jackson responded to far off sounds beyond human hearing telling her that he was a wolf long before his scent hit her. When it finally did she tensed. A slight familiarity was teasing at her, but she couldn’t place it immediately. She wished Billy or one of the Hales was with her. The subtlety of scent was something that could take a lifetime to master, and born wolves were almost always better at it than turned wolves.

       “Well hello again,” Lydia said with a smile. “I would not have guessed you’d be Stiles’ expert on this.” 

       Allison smiled at her, “Well, surprise!”

       Just as Jackson started to speak, in the distance she heard a loud clanging of metal on metal that made her startle and turn, Jackson mirrored her actions, while the humans didn’t react to the sound beyond their hearing. 

       Stiles and Lydia both watched them carefully, Lydia’s eyes shifting from Allison to Jackson, then back again. Her look switched to one that was both calculating and intense. 

       “What is it?” Stiles asked Allison.

       “Nothing. I think it was a railcar maybe. Metal against metal.” 

       Stiles nodded, and Jackson looked back at Allison. “You can hear that?” Jackson demanded.

        “Of course,” Allison replied. 

        Beside him she heard Lydia draw in a quick gasp of air and say, “Oh my god, this isn’t about rabies at all is it?”

        Stiles opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and he turned to look at Allison who started to laugh. 

        “Rabies?” Stiles finally said. “No, definitely not rabies.” He looked at Jackson, “Seriously, this is what you think is going on, that you got RABIES?” 

        Jackson’s face set, and Allison could smell the aggression start to pour off of him. 

       “Jackson,” she said in a commanding voice, “calm down.” 

       Jackson balled his hands into fists, and she could tell at any moment he was going to come across the table at Stiles, but then unexpectedly she heard Stiles beside her start to talk in a low voice, and remarkably, she could see that Jackson was listening to him. It was just a litany of things to concentrate on.

       “C’mon Jackson, focus on my heartbeat. Listen to the rhythm, you’ve got this. Feel the wind on your face. Feel the sun on your skin,” Stiles said in a low even voice. She recognized it as things she and Derek had said to help Scott learn to control himself, to help him ground himself in his human senses.

       Lydia’s eyes took it all on, and Allison could see the moment it all clicked together. “Werewolves, of course. You’re all werewolves.” She looked at Stiles, “Honestly, that’s kind of disappointing.” 

  
  


530pm

      John was exhausted. He’d thought he’d been exhausted the week before, dealing with the whole mess with the Hales and the Hunters, but having McCall in town was giving him a new level of exhaustion to experience. He thought he and Laura had come up with a tight timeline of events to cover all the events of the week before without bringing in Hunters or the supernatural. The original interviews with the Hunters were locked in his safe at home, and the tapes that had been turned over had been the interviews conducted after Chris Argent had spent some time with each Hunter, and a cohesive and supernatural free narrative had emerged in the second interviews.

      John was torn about the cover up. He understood its necessity, and understood the secrecy that the supernatural world depended on, but using his office to hide the truth troubled him. He wished that there was someone he could turn to for advice, but neither the Hales nor Argent knew any other cop in his position. Laura had mentioned a federal group, the USSI, that dealt with supernatural crimes on a national level, but they obviously worked in secrecy, and John didn’t have any idea how to contact them. 

       He glanced back down at the latest overtime report from the jail and sighed, finally signing off on it and shoving it into the completed stack. Looking at the pile still in his to-do basket he wondered if it would ever be clear again. He glanced at the time again, and winced when he realized that he’d been at work for 12 hours. Stiles was going to kill him. He finally climbed to his feet and grabbed his jacket, shutting and locking his door as he walked out. When he got to the front he looked at Tara and asked quietly, “McCall?” 

      She smiled. “He left about 20 minutes ago. Didn’t look like he’d be back.” 

      John nodded. “I’m going to head home. I’ll have my cell on if anything comes up.” Tara was his right hand deputy, and he knew she could take care of anything that might need attention.

      “Goodnight John, tell Stiles to stop by, I’ve missed seeing him around here lately.” 

      “He’ll no doubt be back to terrorize everyone soon enough,” John said with a wave as he walked out. 

 

535pm

      Rafe McCall waited for his son to come out of the locker room, watching the students leaving with his usual attentiveness. He knew something strange was up in Beacon Hills again, and he could tell that Stiles was caught up in it. He also suspected his son was caught up in it as well, he just wasn’t sure how deeply. When Scott finally exited the locker room, he didn’t turn toward the parking lot, but instead cut back up towards the school. Rafe had seen Stiles’ jeep in the parking lot, so Rafe assumed he was meeting up with his eternal sidekick. 

      Rafe had never really liked Stiles, and the feeling was mutual. The boy was disrespectful, and he couldn’t shut up. But he appreciated the boys’ loyalty to each other in a way that neither Scott nor Stiles had ever understood. He also knew Stiles wasn’t the only one of the two he had a hard time getting along with. Rafe and Scott had never really understood each other either. He wondered why the twins were so much easier for him to connect with, and wondered if he’d been less preoccupied with his work, and less secretive about his life with Scott and Melissa, if things would have gone differently. 

      A few minutes later, Scott emerged from the school with Stiles, and Rafe was surprised to see the Martin girl, and the Whittmore boy both boys had gotten into so many fights with. But it was the last person, the girl with the dark wavy hair that caught his eye instantly. He immediately saw the way she scented the air, the tilt of her head. He saw the way she moved, and that he’d been right and Scott had gotten involved with dangerous people. He recognized those movements, and knew in an instant what she was, the potential danger she represented. 

      Her presence confirmed what he’d suspected when he’d seen Kate Argent’s name connected to an investigation, and the conclusions he’d drawn when he could see the way that John had tried to weave his investigation around the supernatural. He wondered how long it had been going on, and when John had found out about werewolves. He wondered if Scott knew exactly how dangerous his new friend was. 

      He watched Scott walk her to her car, saw him smile, and could see the interest between them. He sighed, of course his son would fall for a werewolf. Five hundred completely ordinary girls in his school and he finds the one that could kill him if she lost control. 

      Scott watched the girl pull out of the parking lot, and Rafe took note of her plate number so he could run it later to find out who she was. Scott walked back towards the rest of the group, and after a surprisingly tense exchange, the kids parted ways, the Martin girl and the other boy to a parked Porsche, and Stiles and Scott to the Jeep. 

      Rafe waited a few minutes after they left before turning and grabbing his phone. He scrolled through his contacts for a few minutes before pulling up one of the numbers that was not a department resource and hit the call button.

      After a couple of rings a familiar voice answered and said, “Well, long time no call. What’s up Rafe?” 

      “Hey, is the old man available to talk to me this week?”

      The voice laughed, “He’s still pissed that you married that woman, but yeah, he’s around. Can you give him about an hour to get free?” 

       “Thanks Marco, I think I’ve got a situation here that might need some of his kind of attention.” 

       “I’ll give him a heads up.” 

       “Thanks, I’ll call back in an hour.” Rafe said and hung up. He dropped the phone on the seat beside him and reached down to start the car. A moment later he pulled back onto the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Rafe, you devil, what are you up to? 
> 
> So notes on this chapter. Oh god, so much. Finally Jackson! I'm a pretty nice guy, and writing Jackson is so tough for me. Fortunately my beta reader/editor Snowqueenlou has his voice DOWN and can keep me going til I have it right.   
> I love that Lydia just GETS it, she has all the pieces and then BOOM. I loved playing with the rabies idea, but I had no interest in dragging it out.   
> Out of curiosity (this is not binding either direction) but do you guys want to see the kanima played out? Which of Derek's canon betas do you want to be included, and why?   
> I live on comments and caffeine, so you know what to do.


	5. Chapter 5

620pm

 

     Stiles dragged himself into the house, exhausted, and stopped as he came through the door. Derek was in the kitchen cooking while still wearing Stiles oversized lacrosse shirt (which fit the man almost perfectly) and his sweats.

     “Hi.” Stiles managed finally after a moment.

     “You seem surprised that I'm still here.”

     Stiles snorted, “Not even dude, I told you my dad wants you to move in. I’m surprised to see you all not furry still. I figured spending the day with Laura would be enough to send you fleeing for four feet.”

      “RUDE!” Laura not quite shouted from the living room, “I’m delightful. Is this how you talk about me when I’m not around?”

      Stiles laughed. “I saw your car oh great and mighty alpha, I knew you were still here.” He limped into the kitchen and hovered over the pan on the stove, “That smells amazing, what is it?”

      Derek smiled, “I figured I should earn my keep and at least make dinner. It’ll be lasagna eventually. Your dad is upstairs taking a nap.”

      “When did he get back?”

      “About 20 minutes ago.”

      “I didn’t know you could cook,” Stiles added. “I mean, all I’ve seen is the ‘grrrr werewolf’ bit. Look at you being all well-rounded and everything.”

      “Yes Stiles, I’ve managed to feed myself and Laura at least occasionally for the last five years,” Derek said with a roll of his eyes, though the tone was still warm.

      “Hey, all I’ve seen you eat is fast food and protein bars, don’t judge me for thinking you were one green salad away from rickets. Or wait, that’s vitamin D, scurvy, that’s the one. Wait, can werewolves _GET_ scurvy?” When Derek shrugged, Stiles turned toward the living room, “LAURA!” he shouted toward the living room, “I need answers!”

     “Stiles!” Derek hissed, “Your dad’s asleep, and she has werewolf hearing.”

     “Look who’s all growlywolf now, grrrrr Derek,” Stiles said with a smile. “My dad sleeps with a fan on, he’s used to my noise.”

     Derek cocked an ear upstairs, then nodded. “You still don’t need to yell to be heard.”

     Stiles rolled his eyes, “Alright growlywolf, I’ll just go see Laura to get all my answers.” Then he leaned in and added quietly, “Thank you for cooking.”

     When he limped into the living room, he saw Laura grinning where she lay sprawled on the couch.

     “Scurvy Stiles, that’s your question?”

     He shrugged. “Rickets too actually. Like, I can see it going either direction. Does the healing thing stop that, or are there limits.”

     She actually looked speculatively. “You know, honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve never heard of a werewolf with scurvy, so I have no idea. We don’t catch normal human diseases usually.” She paused, “And no locking my brother in the basement and denying him sunlight and anything green to test it.”

     Stiles flopped into the seat across from her, “You’re the worst, I need answers Laura.” He sighed, “Actually, change of subject and all, I found you another werewolf and congrats, he’s the worst so I guess Derek's saved from that because I can just lock Jackson in the basement instead.”

     She sat up, looking at him, “What are you talking about?” Then half a moment later, before he could even respond he saw the dawning understanding, “The boy from Sunday night. Shit, with everything on Monday I forgot all about him.”

     “Yeah, join the club. I was in economics listening to Finstock miseducate my fellow youth of today with his fuzzy grasp of microeconomic models, and Jackson is like moments away from a meltdown. But I talked him down and got him calm, he managed to make it through Economics without maiming Finstock, which is impressive on its own; or me. Which, considering it’s Jackson, is basically a miracle.”

     “I can’t tell how much you’re exaggerating and how much you’re serious.”

     “Naw, he was fine. He’s a lot more angry young man than Scott was, but the advice that Derek and Allison gave Scott on the full moon really worked for him. Concentrate on my voice, concentrate on my heartbeat. That stuff.”

      She tilted her head, “How do you know what advice Derek gave Scott on the full moon?”

      Stiles snorted, “Cause I was there, of course.”

      “DEREK SAMUEL HALE!” Laura shouted, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

      “Hey!” Stiles yelled back, “My dad’s sleeping!”

      Laura glanced up and tilted her head, ear toward the ceiling, then shook her head. “He didn’t wake up.” Then she turned to Derek who’d walked in the room.

      “Relax Laura. I had Deaton put down a circle of mountain ash, and Scott was fine. Like weirdly fine, all night. I told you he took to it like he was born to it.”

       The outrage on Laura’s face was priceless. “Derek, even if he had been born to it, it was a needless risk. What if Stiles had been hurt?”

       Derek got a guilty look and glanced over at Stiles.

       “Laura, it’s fine, it was my choice. Derek told me that it was a little dangerous, and Deaton explained how the ash worked, and everything was ok. I don’t want to be left out just because I’m human.”

       “Stiles, you can’t make wise decisions out of a place of ignorance. Derek knew that you could still get hurt, and he shouldn’t have let you make that decision.”

       “Laura, not to be an asshole about this, but I have two responses. First, today might have been very different if I hadn’t gone that night. I learned by listening to Derek and Allison how to help Jackson through his rough spot today. And I bet I was in much more danger from him even before the full moon than I was from Scott on the full moon.” Then his eyes got cold, “And, second, and this is the asshole part, but the only time I’ve been hurt through all of this was when I was supposed to meet you.”

       Laura flinched momentarily and then the ghost of a red glow washed over her eyes and she opened her mouth to respond, but Stiles kept talking. “But you’re not to blame for that anymore than Derek was for the full moon. I made the choice to get involved. I want to be involved. Is there always going to be some low level of danger in this for me? Fuck yes. But the most danger I’ve been in so far was that very first night with Peter in the Preserve when I was entirely ignorant.”

       “And when you get hurt again, how do I look your dad in the eyes?” she replied. “How do I say, ‘I’m sorry your son got hurt while running with the wolves?’”

      Stiles looked away for a moment, a certain tension in his movements, “Look, my dad’s not an idiot, he knows there isn’t a way to keep me away from all this, he knows me. Scott’s involved so I’m involved, that’s how we roll. Notice it wasn’t you who got the lecture when I woke up in the hospital.” He looked back up right into her eyes, “I’ve already agreed to work with Argent on some more advanced self defense than what my dad has taught me, and maybe start teaching me how to do more than just maybe survive against the supernatural. And I’m going to talk to Dr Deaton and learn about other things I can do to level the playing field. Just don’t sideline because I’m only a human. Help me be smart about it because I’m going to be involved.”

         She breathed out slowly. Then back in. “I’m not trying to push you out of the pack and I do just want you to be smart about this Stiles.”

        Derek opened his mouth and then closed it, then he stiffened and spoke, “Laura, you’re my alpha and my big sister, I don’t want this to cause a problem. But think about what would have happened if Stiles hadn’t shown up at the house. She was ready for me. I have no doubt she was ready for you too. But she didn’t see Stiles as a threat because he was only human, only a kid.”

       Laura was quiet for a moment, and Stiles wondered what she was thinking. “I see your point,” she said finally, “but what if she’d just shot him instead of taking him captive? It’s what I’d have done if I’d been her.”

       “Already with the death threats?” Stiles said with a small smile.

       “I like you Stiles. And I want you as Pack. You’re smart, and more, you’re clever. But you’re also overbold and impulsive. That’s a dangerous set of traits when you don’t have a way to protect yourself.”

       “I’m not arguing any of that,” Stiles replied, “just don’t push me away from the little bits of danger that I can learn from, in an attempt to keep me out of the bigger dangers. I know I’m human, I do, and I don’t want to get hurt again. That’s why I’m training with Argent. And why I’m going to talk to Deaton.”

        She glanced at Derek, clearly deep in thought, then finally she nodded. “Just be smart Stiles. Think before you act. Be careful.”

       “I promise,” he replied.

       “And no keeping secrets from your dad. If he says no, it means no.”

       Stiles nodded.

       Derek relaxed and walked back into the kitchen, and Laura leaned back into the couch. “So tell me about Jackson.”

  
  


715pm

      Derek heard Scott set his bike against the porch outside and glanced over to where Laura and Stiles were having a heated debate over the relative merits of DC versus Marvel, but he saw the quick tilt of her head when she heard him as well. A moment later Scott came bursting through the door and paused a moment when he saw Derek and Laura. Derek smiled briefly, clearly Scott hadn’t actually been using his new senses or he’d have known they were there.

      “Scott, thank god, a voice of reason! Tell this heathen that Batman is better than Iron Man EVERY DAY,” Stiles said without even turning to look.

      “Hey guys,” Scott said, and then after a moment continued, “And Batman is best. Always.” He said it like a fact that didn’t interest him at all but that he’d memorized many years before.

      Derek snorted. “You’re all idiots. Superman is the best.” He’d been avoiding weighing in on Stiles and Laura’s argument, which had revealed Stiles had a nerdy depth to almost match Laura’s encyclopedic love of all things comic. When they’d first announced Iron Man the movie she’d spent months talking about it. When the movie came out she had spent equal times loving it, and complaining that it had almost rewritten Tony Stark’s character. Though she’d also admitted it was probably an improvement and that RDJr was a gift to all mankind.

      Stiles turned on Derek, “Superman? What are you, a senior citizen? He’s all ‘aw shucks’ and ridiculously overpowered.”

      Derek shrugged, “That doesn’t matter, he’s an actual superhero rather than a billionaire in fetish gear, Stiles.”

      “Derek, you can’t just say that!” Stiles howled. “Fetish gear? I can’t believe I just heard Derek even say that!” He looked at Laura, “How is that heretic even related to you?”

      “Not a heretic Stiles,” Derek said from the doorway he’d retreated to. “And at least I agree with DC, so I’m not sure why you’re complaining so much.”

      Laura smiled, “I think he only got into Superman because they were the only comics I wouldn’t steal from him before he could read them.”

     Scott slumped into the loveseat, relaxed with an amused smile.

      Laura looked up at him, “Did Derek and I intrude onto plans you guys had?”

      Stiles laughed, “No, it’s Wednesday. So momma McCall is starting on nights again. Scott stays over here when she’s at work most of the time.”

      Scott groaned, “My dad called earlier and wants me to have dinner with him tomorrow, so I won’t be here until later. He forgets my birthday and then calls today since he’s in town like it’s no big deal.”

       “Your dad is the worst Scott,” Stiles replied.

       “He forgot your birthday?” Derek said. “For how long?”

       “A week,” Scott said with a sigh, “I mean, to be fair, he was busy with a human trafficking ring, but like a text was too much?” Scott shrugged. “Whatever, it’s not like it’s the first time.”

        Derek’s chest tightened with an unexpected feeling. His dad had always been so involved with the family, picking up a lot of the slack of keeping the home since his mom had been busy both being the alpha and with her own career. He knew not every family was like that, but hearing the frank way Scott commented on it gave him a new insight into the lack of relationship the boy had with his father.

       The fact that he still needed to sit down with the man and talk about his own kidnapping and the death of Kate just added to the complex of emotions he suddenly felt.

       Derek started feeling the need for some space, so he said, “I need to get dinner in the oven or we won’t eat until ten.” And then he turned and walked back toward the kitchen.

        He kept thinking about it as he assembled all the ingredients for his dad’s lasagna into the Pyrex baking dish he’d pulled out of the Stilinski’s cupboard. Knowing Stiles had strong opinions about John’s diet, he’d made his meat sauce with ¾ ground turkey and ¼ ground beef, but cooked it together so it wasn’t so readily apparent.

       He was so lost in concentration he didn’t even notice Stiles limp back into the kitchen until he was almost standing beside him. He glanced over at Stiles who was looking closely as he prepared. After a moment he said, “It’s mostly ground turkey.”

        Stiles smiled. “His cholesterol isn’t that bad yet, but the doctor said it was something to watch, and his mom died of a heart attack right before my mom got bad.”

        “Do you mind if I ask what happened to her?” Derek asked quietly. He’d gathered that Stiles mom had died when he was young, but hadn’t heard the details.

         “When I was eight,” Stiles said, looking away and fidgeting with the tail of his shirt, “she had a rare form of dementia.”

         Derek didn’t say anything and a silence grew between them for a moment, in the other room he could hear Laura and Scott arguing about baseball.

         “I know how much hearing ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t help, and it’s still the only thing I know to say,” Derek finally said. “That loss, it’s like a well, and you never really get out of it.”

      Stiles tensed, and then a moment later Derek smelled the stress change in his scent. “We don’t really talk about her, my dad and I.”

      Derek nodded, “Laura and I are the same, we talk about them from before sometimes, memories and stupid things, but not about _after_.”

      Stiles closed his eyes and turned and looked away. “Yeah, exactly.”

      “Would you come to see them with me sometime?” Derek asked. “I haven’t been since the funeral.”

      “Of course,” Stiles said, looking back at him.

     “Maybe this weekend?”

      Stiles nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Anytime you want.”

      Derek slid the baking dish of lasagna into the oven and set the timer. “Okay then.” He finished and they walked back into the living room where Laura was pelting Scott with pillows from the couch.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter proved weirdly difficult to nail down. I tried writing versions of both sections that will end up being chapter 5 in new forms, before I realized that the problem was that Scott had really fallen to the wayside lately. and at this point Scott and Stiles should still be incredibly tight. Of course, I did that and still give you what is essentially a pre-sterek set-up, but what can you do? Truth in advertising.
> 
> Edited to fix weird formatting issue.


	6. Chapter 6

Thursday January 20, 2011

630am

 

      The alarm went off and Stiles groaned before he reached over without opening his eyes, and pushed Scott out of bed. “Go shower,” he muttered, and hit the snooze button. 

       Scott grumbled as he sat up and then yelped, which woke Stiles up faster than the alarm ever could. When he sat up, he saw Scott staring at the corner where wolf-Derek was laying, watching them. “The hell, Derek! You scared the hell out of me.” 

       Stiles slumped back into his pillows. “Oh yeah, he’s slept there the last couple of nights. It’s a pack thing I think.” 

       Scott shook his head and Stiles turned over and looked at Derek. “So back to fur-self huh? Am I going to have to bribe you with breakfast to get you human again?” Laura had gone back to the hotel the night before to check in with the betas, but Derek had stayed again.

        Derek tail smacked the wall a couple of times. 

        Stiles sighed, “Fine, go get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs.” Stiles slipped out of bed and pulled on an old hoodie against the morning chill, his thigh aching and stiff after the night’s sleep. 

       He paused as he was pulling on some socks, strange fragments of his dreams still flashing through his mind. Puzzled, he made his way down the stairs and walked through the kitchen door out into the even colder garage. Soundlessly Derek appeared behind him soon after, his face unsure of what was going on, but not saying anything for several long minutes.

       “What is it?” Derek finally asked.

       “You know the idea that you only dream about people and places you know, or have seen?” 

       “Yeah?”

       “Do you think that applies to the things in your dreams too? Like, if I was going to dream about a freezer, you’d think it would be this one right?” 

        “Sure, I guess?” Derek replied.

        “All night last night I kept dreaming about a room and a freezer. But it wasn’t this one. And nothing about the room was familiar. There was, like, a street sign on the wall and a box with some trophies next to it.” 

        “I’m not sure what you mean Stiles.”

        “I’m not sure I do either,” Stiles said, not sure what exactly about the dream he was reacting to, “but it felt important somehow. I think there was a lock on the freezer. And-“ He paused again, remembering, “and maybe there was blood on the outside of the freezer.” He shook his head. “I don’t know dude, dreams are weird I guess.”

       Derek snorted. “You’re weird and your dreams are weird. And stop calling me dude, you sound like some frat bro.” 

       “Eh, I’ll be heading off for college in a year and a half, maybe I’ll join a frat, take up beer pong, and call everyone dude. Don’t judge my life choices cuddlewolf.” 

        Derek rolled his eyes and they walked back in the kitchen. Stiles grabbed the eggs and cheese from the fridge and set them on the counter. Then went back and pulled out the turkey bacon and some vegetables, which he proceeded to start dicing up and then dropping into a frying pan he’d started warming on the stove. As he cooked he hummed to himself, and upstairs he heard Scott turn off the shower, as well as someone else, probably his dad, coming down the stairs. A moment later the man himself walked into the kitchen. 

        “Can you grab some more eggs for me?” he said to Derek, “I’m not sure I have enough for my dad and me and two werewolves.”  

       Derek snorted and wordlessly handed him a second pack of eggs from the refrigerator. “I have to meet with Scott’s dad today, so I’ll stop and grab more before I head back?” When he spoke there was an odd questioning tone there, like he was asking for permission, and it took a moment for Stiles to figure out what was going through his head. Once he figured it out, he shot his dad a look, and the elder Stilinski smiled back before he turned to look at Derek. 

        “You could stop at the hotel and grab the rest of your stuff while you’re out, if you like,” John said to Derek, “I know Laura wants to stay at the hotel while the other betas are still in town, but if you’re going to be here you should have your stuff.” 

        “I will if you’re sure you want me here,” Derek replied, “Laura said it’s best that I avoid betas from another pack as much as possible until I have the alpha power under control, but I can get a room at a different hotel too. Or just get an apartment or something.” 

        “Nonsense. We have the room, and she said it would be good for you to have people you consider pack around. Besides, you can keep an eye on this miscreant when I’m working nights.” As he spoke he cupped Stiles neck in a familiar way that had always expressed the man’s affection when words failed him. Stiles had a moment of sadness as he realized that besides Laura, there was no one in Derek’s life that could give him the kind of easy affection that a lifetime of knowing someone would give, “And I should stop and have a couple of extra keys made this afternoon,” John added as Stiles started to pour the scrambled eggs into the frying pan. 

         After Scott had come downstairs and the eggs were all cooked, Stiles joined the others at the table, and as he half listened to them talk, his mind turned over the strangely haunting remnants of his dreams from the night before. He only paid slight attention to Scott excitedly talking about the upcoming lacrosse game,  and his dad asking if Jackson was going to be a problem. 

Stiles kept catching the half worried glances that the others kept throwing his way over the uncharacteristic silence,  but the tinge of horror that echoed from the dreams kept dominating his thoughts and he continued to stay quiet while he ate and tried to remember more than just fragments of the dreams.

 

1230pm

 

     “Lunine, lunine, where the fuck is lunine?” Stiles muttered as he glanced through the Latin to English dictionary at the table in the library.

      “Are you sure you don’t mean lumine?” Lydia said unexpectedly from behind him. 

      Stiles turned, “You know Latin?” 

      She shrugged. “I dabble.” 

       “I’m not sure,” he said. “Whoever Severtus Julius was, he was the worst. There’s like no spaces between words,and the hand-writing is way worse than mine.”  

       “Are you trying to read a primary source?” Lydia asked. 

        “I’m trying to read the fucker’s notebook,” Stiles said with a grimace and a shrug, “but he didn’t even need to write in code to be impossible to read.” 

        She rolled her eyes and grabbed the oversized but thin book from in front of Stiles. When he reached to grab it back she slapped his hand and said, “Stop.”  

       She glanced over the first pag e. “Wow,” Lydia said after a moment, “This really is awful. The no space between words though, that’s an actual Roman thing.”  She motioned for Stiles to give her the paper he’d been translating onto. She looked at it and rolled her eyes again. “Have you ever looked at Latin before?” she asked.

       “Does ‘carpe diem’ count?” he asked with a smirk.

        “No,” Lydia said as she glanced over the pages. “And that shows in your translation. Fine. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll translate your manuscript in return for two things.” 

        “I’m interested,” he replied. “What do you want?”

       “First, never mention to anyone that I did this for you,” she said, “Or you’ll regret it. And second, I want you to stop embarrassing me in public with your stupid crush. Deal?”

         “I, ummm,” he said as he slid back and down into his chair, suddenly feeling very exposed.

       Sh e shifted her expression and glared back at him, her eyes suddenly filled with an icy rage. “Do you understand how humiliating it is to be treated like an object to be owned? Like I can be bought or won, like a prize at some tacky carnival? I know you don’t understand why I’m with Jackson, you’ve said it often enough, but for all of Jackson’s worst traits, he would never consider me an object.” The worst part of it may have been the low tight voice she used, a furious quiet sound that filled him with shame. Here, in the privacy of the corner of the library was Lydia as he’d never expected to see her, stripped of the superficial facade she usually wore. Intense and alive with her fury, as she leaned forward across the table in a naked aggression that stunned him in it’s abruptness. 

          His face flushed a deep red, burning with shame, as he looked away, Every word she said hit deeply home, revealing to him how his actions had gotten increasingly unacceptable over the years, “Oh fuck, oh god Lydia,” he said, his voice shaking, “I have been such an asshole. Fuck, what was I thinking? I didn’t mean that. At some point, I stopped seeing you as you. Shit.” He paused, seeing his actions for the first time through the lens of how she must have felt them. “Jesus Lydia, I’m so sorry.” 

         She nodded, the fierce glare fading from her eyes, and the slightly vacant facade she wore so fully slipped back into place. It was a shocking reminder that while he’d seen hints of how much she hid, that he didn’t really know her, and he wondered how much of what he’d assumed about her was just a fantasy. For the first time he began to consider that might actually be almost all it was. “Good,” she said simply. “With Jackson being how he is, I imagine we’ll all be around each other more, I wanted to get this cleared up.”  She glanced around before she leaned back across the table, “But you need to understand, I don’t want to be seen as some weirdo. So we’re going to have to do something about-” she gestured at him, “all of that.” 

Her sudden about-face left him speechless. “What do you mean, ‘all of this’?” He looked down in surprise, because he’d put on a clean shirt that morning and everything. Mostly because Derek had washed all of his laundry the day before, and he was pretty sure the wolf had hidden or maybe thrown out a couple of pairs of Stiles oldest shoes. They had actually begun to smell a bit Stiles had to acknowledge to himself, so it was understandable that they might offend wolfish senses.

She rolled her eyes, “Stiles, stop arguing. Just go along with what I say and I'll have you acceptably popular before Jackson even shifts next month, just do what I say.” 

“Wait, I mean, fine, but I don’t have to talk to the idiots on the football team do I?” Stiles replied, real terror on his face. “Jackson I can deal with, but Quincy and Robert Ashton are a step too far.” 

“Quincy will be asking you why you never come to his parties by next week. And Robert will probably low-key ask you to come over sometime by the end of the month. Don’t do it, I think he buys Rohypnol in bulk.” She flipped back to the front of the book and started scratching away at Stiles’ notes. Filling in corrections and adding commentary in the margins of the translation. 

“Why?” Stiles asked, “and how?” 

Lydia sighed and put down her pen. “Stiles. This is what I do. I make and destroy reputations. Jocelyn Keller is at Beacon Valley now because she tried to sleep with Jackson, and she thinks it was her idea. I thought about getting rid of Robert, but here I can keep people out of his way until someone is willing to come forward publicly. Plus, without him the football team will never win a game again unless we can get a decent quarterback. Also, I’m going to have Danny switch your Honors History and your Study Hall starting tomorrow. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get rid of Tammy Holcomb sharing my table, and this will be perfect time. She steals my pens and leaves post-its everywhere.” She paused again, tapping her pen on the notepad, then smiled with some internal thought, “Yes, perfect. So I imagine people will probably ask you who you were sleeping with in your old history class, just don’t name anyone. Imply it was someone dating someone else and be vague about the gender and it’ll be perfect.”

He just stared at her speechless.

She looked at him as the seconds ticked by and he couldn’t put any words together. “This is where you say, ‘yes Lydia’.” She prodded his hand with her pen.

He rolled his eyes, slumping further down into his seat and groaning. “Yes Lydia.” Then after a moment he leaned forward across the table, his curiosity in full gear. “S o wait, who are people going to think I was sleeping with?”

She grinned, “Well, some will think it was Lester Holt, but I imagine the majority will think it was Caitlin Muir. She and her boyfriend aren’t exclusive, so it won’t matter, and Lester is notoriously unfaithful and somewhat-.” she paused, the pen poised in the air in front of her, “indiscriminate. Either way it doesn’t matter, suddenly you’ll be seen as someone who is desirable, which is really what this is about. ” 

“You know honestly, I’ve met an actual serial killer, and right now you terrify me more than she did,” Stiles said with a relaxed grin. 

She smiled as she looked back up at him, and his stomach lurched slightly. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Stiles. And as a lesson, _ that _ is the kind of compliment that works on me.” 

He laughed, and said candidly, “For years I thought I knew what you were really like beneath the Lydia Martin exterior, but I think I didn’t even come close. Why did you even stop and help me today? Was it just to clear this up, or was there another reason?” 

        She looked at him with a long steady gaze that made him feel like he was being measured in some way, before she finally replied, “Jackson was reason enough, but your idiotic crush on me aside, how did you see me?” 

        He looked and her and sighed. “Honestly?” 

        She nodded.

        “I’ve always thought you were the most brilliant person I’d ever seen,” he said quietly. “Your IQ is probably like a million. I know you do topological mathematics in the margins of your chemistry notes because you’re bored most of the time. You speak Spanish and French, and apparently in your free time you’ve learned Latin, so I have no doubt you know at least a couple of other languages. On top of all of that, you’ve completely conquered the social hierarchy as a sophomore. I don’t understand why you bother, but it’s clearly important to you. I didn’t quite see how actually terrifying it would be to have all of that attention on me, and I think I understand why Jackson is so Jackson now. But I’ve always been in awe of you, and honestly I think I always will be. You’re fucking amazing and whatever you decide to do you’re probably going to change the world.” 

         She looked at him, the superficial facade stripped away again. “How do you know all of that?” she finally asked.

         He sighed and glanced around before leaning closer and answering, “I know everyone thinks I talk too much. That’s the ADD, and I can’t really do much about it,” Stiles said, “but I hear as much as I talk. I  _ see _ as much as I talk. And I’ve been paying attention to you since the third grade. So how could I miss it?” 

        She nodded. “I might have underestimated you a little bit too, you know. I never trusted that you could keep things a secret, and secrets are a currency. But you’ve seen all of that, and the werewolf thing, and now I think maybe we can try to be friends.”

       He smiled again, and looked at her, seeing her more truly than he ever had, “I think that would be awesome. Just, you know, if I’m an asshole again, tell me. Clearly I don’t always see-”  He looked for the right word, “I don’t always see what I’m  doing.” 

      She  gathered up the pages of  the translation, and stood up. “I think I can do that. And now, I need to actually find the books I came here to get.” She looked back at the book, “When do you need this done? And when is Jackson supposed to meet the alpha?” 

He shrugged, “I don’t think it’s hugely important, so whenever, it was a book that Kate had with her in the house, I’m just curious why she had it I guess. And I asked Jackson if he was free tonight, but he Jacksoned me and told me he’d let me know.” 

She rolled her eyes. “He’d be completely offended that you call it that, but I know exactly what you mean. Tonight will be fine. Should we come to your house?”

      “I’ll check with her first, but yeah, probably. I’m going to practice today to keep an eye on Jackson and Scott to help keep them focused, I should have an answer by then.” 

      She tapped her pen against the book as she looked at him. and added quietly, “I wish you’d never thought you loved me, because I could have used you as a friend more.” 

       He looked back down before looking back to catch her eye, ashamed again by his actions, “I’ll never be sorry I thought you were worth being in love with, but I am truly sorry I was such an asshole about it. Because, even though the person I thought you were was awesome.” He paused, as her eyes got slightly hard again, before continuing, “The thing is, the you that I saw here? Yeah, way more awesome and more than a little terrifying. So hell yeah I want to be your friend, because fuck it all, you’re amazing.”  

       She smiled and  gathered her things before she glanced at him one last time, the look on her face unreadable, and walked away. It wasn’t until after she left that he realized she’d never actually answered his question about why she was helping him.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, yeah.   
> Surprise I guess? 
> 
> As far as Lydia goes, okay, here's the deal. For me, there's no real defense of the way Stiles treats her, and one of the worst thing the show did was to never address that. Like he's legitimately toxic in his treatment of her. And it feels wrong to try and proceed with them becoming friends without addressing it. Especially without the Peter and Jackson as kanima storyline bringing them together. Before anything can progress they need to address that past history, so I wanted to throw it on the table for them.   
> Next chapter is EVEN MORE TALKING. Good grief this one is turning into a lot of talking. I feel like I'm writing Gilmore Girls or West Wing with it being this dialogue heavy.   
> Let me know what you're thinking so far. Do I need to kill someone off? Anyone that's been sidelined a bit that you want to know what they're doing?


	7. Chapter 7

330pm

    Stiles was annoyed to find himself in the bleachers by the field watching two werewolves try not to reveal their supernatural skills, and muttering quiet encouragement to them while they struggled to not give into the beast inside. Because he’d already reached the point of almost normalcy about it all, he also quickly found himself bored, and multitasked by texting Laura. 

 

Stiles: Oh Alpha my Alpha!

Laura: Are there any other humans we can adopt instead of you?

Stiles: Ouch Laura, that one hurt.

Laura: Wait, really? 

Stiles: No, because clearly I’m awesome. But it MIGHT have hurt. If I was less awesome.

Laura: How bout that kid at the 7/11? Greenberg I think his name is? He seems ok. 

Stiles: He has athlete’s foot. Plus he’s failing economics. I’m not even sure HOW, since normally coach just autopasses everyone on the team.

Laura: Fine. I guess we’ll keep you. What’s up? 

Stiles: So tonight work for you for me to bring Jax around? 

Laura: Does he know you call him Jax? 

Stiles: Are you kidding? The last guy to call him that almost lost a kidney, and that was before he became a creature of the night. 

Laura: I’m going to regret Peter’s choices forever aren’t I? 

Stiles: I mean, you got me when he bit Scott, so that’s a win. 

Stiles: But yeah, I already regret Jax. . 

Stiles: Though Scott is like the best ever. So it evens out.

Laura: Scott’s basically a labrador, you realize that right? 

Stiles: Wait, did you just make a dog joke?!? OH MY GOD<3 <3

Stiles: Seriously, you’re the best.

Stiles: And also, so true. 

Laura: I’ve known born wolves like that, but I’ve never met a bitten beta that had as few problems at the beginning as he has. 

Stiles: It’s cause I’m an awesome Obi Wan. 

Laura: No, it’s because he apparently is an actual Disney princess. 

Stiles: Funny story, I have a picture on my phone of a bird landing on his shoulder.

Laura: Shut up. Really? 

Stiles: Serious. It was amazing. 

Stiles: So, tonight?

Laura: Oh yeah, bring him by. Actually, let’s meet at the warehouse. I finally got the new door put in today, plus some actual furniture. 

Stiles: Holy shit. Furniture? What’s next a minifridge? 

Laura: Fuck no. A full size fridge, have you seen werewolves eat? 

Stiles: That’s a valid point. Also, can we have a bar? 

Laura: Are you 21? 

Stiles: I have an excellent fake that says I am.

Laura: I’ll make sure I let your father know. 

Stiles: YOU WOULDN’T!!!!

Laura: Try me Stilinski. 

Stiles: I’m putting wolfsbane in your laundry detergent.

Laura: Greenberg is definitely a better choice.

Stiles: /googles aconite suppliers/

Stiles: Holy fuck, Scott just did a back flip and caught a ball. 

Laura: Jesus, way to keep it under the radar Scott. 

Stiles: I told him that if he did it again I’d put wolfsbane in his laundry. He looked guilty. 

Laura: Recycling your threats? Slacker.

Stiles: Please, recycling is the zeitgeist.

Laura: Nice vocabulary word. 

Stiles: Notice I can spell it and everything. 

 

    Stiles glanced up where Jackson was gripping the handle of his crosse so hard Stiles could see the metal starting to give as he stared at Scott. His thoughts raced and he whispered, “Jesus Jacks, hopefully you don’t grip your dick that tight when you jack off.” 

    Jackson’s eyes flashed as he turned towards Stiles, taking a step. 

    “That’s it Jackson, focus, and now breathe. You’ve got this. Scott doesn’t have much more experience than you. You’ll both get through today.” 

    Jackson loosened his grip on his crosse and turned back toward the field. A few minutes later, just as Stiles was bending back to his texts he heard the tell tale woosh as the ball flew past his head. He jerked back as he looked back towards the field where the coach was yelling at a smirking Jackson. 

    “Sorry coach,” Jackson said unapologetically, “Got confused at which way the goal was.”

    “You jackass, what if that had hit me, asshole!” Stiles shouted at him. 

         “Shut up Stilinski,” Jackson said as he jogged by to retrieve the ball, “You’ve seen me play, you know if I’d meant to hit you it would have.” 

    On the field Scott was gripping his crosse now, his eyes starting to flash a dangerous gold. 

    “Jesus Scott, calm down,” Stiles whispered, “Think about Allison, think about your date after the game tomorrow. Listen to my heartbeat.” On the field Scott’s grip on the crosse loosened and Jackson stopped as he came back by. 

    “You’re pretty good at this werewolf whisperer thing aren’t you?” 

    Stiles snorted. “Well, I’ve also got back-up.” He gestured to the hill rising towards the school where Lydia and Allison were sitting in the fading afternoon sunlight talking about what Stiles wasn’t sure, but he knew Allison was keeping her ears open to what was going on. 

    Jackson nodded and jogged back onto the field. 

 

Laura: I'm sure your dad is so proud that you’ve mastered autocorrect.

Stiles: Think Satomi would be interested in an awesome human for her pack. 

Laura: For dinner? 

Stiles: I thought she was like into Buddhist werewolfiness? 

Laura: Gotta satisfy the need for human flesh somehow.

Stiles: That’s the most creepy thing you’ve ever said to me.

Laura: Didn’t Derek warn you? 

Stiles: In his moping missing you he somehow forgot to mention you were sort of an asshole.

Laura: Sorry to disappoint. 

Stiles: Are you kidding, I feel like we were separated at birth. 

Laura: Aw, the feeling is mutual Robin. 

Stiles: Wait, no way! I am totally Batman in this relationship!

Laura: Hardly. I’m the badass creature of the night. Doing good with brutal means.

Stiles: Please, Derek has the brooding bad boy look down. 

Laura: It’s just the eyebrows. 

Stiles: It’s definitely the eyebrows. Like he has this whole eyebrow language I think. It’s hilarious.

Laura: Oh my god, right? And he’s so much better about using his words than he was even a year ago.

Stiles: I looked him up in the old yearbooks. They were terrifying even then. 

Laura: Thank god he finally grew into them. 

 

    They continued texting as Stiles kept watch on the werewolves, but as the practice wore on he could tell that the edge of the aggression had worn off, and while Jackson kept having moments where he was clearly struggling to keep control, he didn’t come close to losing it again. When coach called an end to practice Stiles slipped his phone in his pocket and started to limp across to where Lydia and Allison were laughing in the grass. Jackson jarred him as he went past and growled, “Watch it, Stilinski.” 

    He gently lowered himself down next to them. “Oh my god, I never want to get stabbed again, this shit sucks. Also, Jackson is still an asshole,” he complained as he gently rubbed his aching thigh. 

    “Being a werewolf isn’t going to change who he is inside Stiles, isn’t that what you said? I do still want to hear the full story about Kate though.” Lydia smiled like a predator. 

    “Honestly the official story is pretty true. I literally tripped over psycho Kate at the Hale house.”

    “The newspaper thinks you were there to pick up a jacket you’d left out there the day before,” Lydia said, “And now that I know about werewolves and hunters, I’m guessing that’s not exactly accurate.” 

    Stiles sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “Ask me after the meeting tonight, Laura wants everyone to meet at the warehouse in an hour if that’s cool?” 

    “Fine,” Lydia snapped.

    “Honestly Lydia, I’m not trying to annoy you, there’s just secrets that aren’t mine all caught up in this.” 

    She paused, as if considering, and then nodded, her irritated expression fading a bit.

    “So Stiles, why are you and Jackson the way you guys are?” Allison said, clearly trying to change the subject.

    Stiles groaned and said, “Honestly I’m not really sure. It’s like sometime in junior high we went from being not friends to actual enemies.”

    “Seventh grade,” Lydia said, as she wrote down the next lines of the translation she’d been working on. “It was seventh grade, around the time that Stiles asked me to go to the winter dance.”

    “So it’s all over you?” Allison asked confused. 

    Lydia sighed, “Not exactly. Jackson and I were already a thing, in a junior high kind of way. And Stiles came up during lunch and sat down next to me and in front of everyone asked me to the dance. It was just so random, because he and I hadn’t even talked since fifth grade, and it was weird and sort of uncomfortable.” 

    Allison glanced at Stiles, whose face was starting to turn red, and who was looking anywhere but at the two girls he was sitting with. “Not my finest moment,” he finally said. “And then Jackson lunged across the table and hit me.”

    Lydia nodded. “Jackson had just found out he was adopted, and had been being weird all week. But I ended up breaking up with Jackson over it, because I do not need to be defended like I’m anyone’s property, and went to the dance with Robert Ashton, and Stiles and Jackson became dedicated to hating each other.”

    “It went all next level when Scott talked me into joining lacrosse last year,” Stiles added. “I thought he was going to straight up murder me at tryouts.”

    Allison’s face grew thoughtful and she was quiet for a long time before she asked, “Is this going to be a problem with having him around the pack?” 

    Stiles frowned, “Why would it? I mean, I can’t imagine that everyone in a pack always gets along do they?” 

    Allison shrugged a bit, tipping her head side to side, “Yes and no. Like, there’s always people who are closer. And the pack size affects things a lot. But usually if there’s a really serious problem it gets worked out, or else someone ends up leaving. That’s why Satomi sent Gary here, to get some distance while the tension between him and his ex cools off.”

    Stiles heart clenched a bit, he refused to be kicked out the the pack just because he and Jackass couldn’t get along. “Well, I guess we’ll have to work through our stuff then.” 

    Lydia snorted, “Good luck with that.” 

    “Hey! Be a supportive friend over there!” 

    Lydia laughed, “That was supportive. My first response was ‘that is never ever happening’.” 

    Stiles groaned and flopped back onto the grass. “Fuck my life,” he said softly.

 

515pm

    Stiles slammed through the door and dropped his bag on the ground. “Fucking door,” he muttered and rubbed his shin where he’d smacked into it, and made his way into the living room where his dad and Derek were watching a basketball game. “Hey guys.” He flopped onto the couch next to his dad, and reached over and grabbed the magazine that the sheriff had abandoned.

    “Rough day?” his dad asked, looking carefully at him. 

    “Rough week. Can I sleep for the rest of it?” 

    “Not a chance. Do you need to skip the meeting tonight? Laura told me about it.” 

    “No, I need to go and at least introduce everyone,” Stiles said with a sigh. “I just wish my leg felt better.” 

    “It’s going to take some time,” his dad replied, “Even though you caught that knife in a best case scenario, it’s still going to take awhile to heal an injury that deep.” 

    “I know. This would just be a lot easier if I could just move around like a normal person, this thing is super annoying.” 

    “Well, think about that before your next shoot-out, son.” 

    “Thanks dad, you’re going to get Father of the Year with no problem with that level of support. Scott at dinner with his dad?” 

    “Yeah, he said he’d be over afterward. I’m meeting Melissa in an hour for our usual dinner since she goes in late tonight.” 

    “You missed your chance to throw a party tonight with Derek and me gone,” Stiles joked, setting the magazine back down and picking up the remote to play with.

    “Maybe next week,” his dad replied. “Melissa and I are going to try that new Italian place on Columbia.”

    “Wait, isn’t that the one you think is run by drug dealers?” 

    “Well, if the lasagna is terrible, I’ll know something is up. And in the meantime, I get a meal that has actual red meat in it.” 

    “I’m texting Melissa to make sure you order a salad with that,” Stiles griped. 

    “If the actual nurse isn’t worried about my cholesterol isn’t that a sign?”

    “She’s probably just trying to get me for her own, considering how awesome I am.” 

    Derek, who’d been sitting silently through all of this just snorted. 

    “And what does that snort mean McGruff?” 

    Derek rolled his eyes, and said, “Is that what you’re wearing to the meeting or do you want to change before we head out?” 

    “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Stiles said with a shrug, wondering what was wrong with his outfit that both Lydia and Derek thought he should change it. He glanced down at his shirt, it still looked clean.

    “Nothing, it’s fine. we should head out then.”

    “Okay.” Stiles struggled back to his feet, and handed the remote back to his dad. “Have fun at dinner, daddio, and tell Melissa I said hi.”

    “Don’t let him stay out too late,” his dad said, looking at Derek. “He needs his rest no matter what he says.” 

    “No argument from me,” Stiles replied, “I’m ready for a week of uninterrupted sleep.”

    He limped back to the door and almost tripped over his bag until Derek caught him. “Thanks buddy,” Stiles said, “Clumsier than usual today.” 

    Derek nodded, and they walked out to the jeep and got in. As they drove, Stiles glanced at the older man who seemed slightly off somehow.

    “Is everything okay?” he finally asked.

    “Yeah, worried about tonight. Laura almost told me not to come, but she wanted to see how it went in a fairly controlled environment.

    “Is it that big a deal?” 

    Derek looked away out the window and shrugged before finally saying, “It’s hard. Laura’s been working with me during the day to help me get comfortable with the alpha power, but it’s a lot. It’s like when I was a teenager again trying to find my anchor again. The worst is that I’m suddenly way more territorial about things. Your dad grabbed my glass earlier when he was going to the kitchen and I had the urge to jump up and grab it back. I think I’m prepared for the big things, but it’s the little ones that slip by.” 

    “Fuck dude, that sounds intense.” 

    “Dude again?” 

    “It’s California Derek, dude is our heritage.” 

    The wolf sighed and shook his head.

    “Well, try not to kill Jackson, he’s annoying, but-” Stiles thought for a moment, “see the thing about Jackson is this: he’s like a total asshole, but, at the same time, he’s also like really good at everything. He’s not a genius or anything, he just works harder than anyone else at doing well. And I know he wasn’t always as good at lacrosse as he is now, but I’ve seen him at the school on weekends and during the summer, working at getting better. I guess that’s the thing, he’s always trying to be better. So yeah, an asshole, but like, you have to admire him a bit too, I guess?”

    “My brother was like that,” Derek said. “Kyle.” Then he was silent, and Stiles wondered if he was regretting that he’d brought up one of the lost Hales. “He was younger than Cora, so you wouldn’t have known him, but he-” Derek stopped again, his voice cracking slightly, “he always tried to keep up with us. When he was seven he snuck out after Laura and I had left for a run, and followed us through the preserve. When we got to the top of Murray Hill we’d stopped running and were just goofing off in the trees and he comes panting up the hill. Mom was so mad at him when we got home, but he was so proud that he’d run as far as we had. He wouldn’t even let me carry him back, he insisted we let him run with us.”

    Stiles listened quietly, appreciating the sharing for what it was, before he asked, “What was your favorite thing about him?”

    Derek smiled, “His wolf rode the surface all the time. I mean, even for one of us.” 

    “What do you mean?” 

    “Born wolves,” Derek said, “we’re intense.” He looked at Stiles. “I assumed you’d noticed it. It’s the wolf, the way they see the world.” 

    Stiles thought back, “I mean, I’ve noticed it, but I thought it was a Hale thing,” he shrugged.

    “No, it’s most born wolves. With Billy it isn’t noticeable very often, but it’s still there. If you know what to look for, we give ourselves away in a hundred ways. I know you think of us as basically human, but we’re not always, not completely. We just hold back in some ways.”

    “Like what?” Stiles asked. 

    “You’ve seen me and Laura together, the way we stand and touch, that’s us trying to fit in with humans. If no one is around we just end up on top of each other, constantly touching. But humans filter that differently. They think it’s a sex thing, but with born wolves it’s just a pack thing. I mean, yes, sometimes it is a sex thing too,” he laughed a little, “but mostly it’s just constantly being in each others space. In New York, we each had our own rooms, but we shared a bed 99 percent of the time. Sometimes one of us needed space, but it’s not a common feeling. It’s different for bitten wolves. Their brains are wired more human, though you’re going to notice Scott probably getting more touchy with everyone, as time goes on.” 

“He did cuddle more into me last night than he usually does, which I mean, the dude is a total cuddler anyway, but yeah, I did notice it. What else?” 

    “Have you noticed how often Laura and I smell for things?” 

    “That one I have noticed,” Stiles said. “You do this thing where you’ll take like three short little sniffs. I thought it was a you thing until I hung out with Laura the first time.” 

    “There’s a lot of information we get from scent that is completely invisible to humans. You’ll notice I rarely ask Laura how she feels about something, because if we’re close by each other I can smell how she feels about things. It’s harder with people I don’t know as well, because every person's body chemistry is a little different, though some things are fairly universal.”

    “Wait, so what kind of things are easiest?”

    “Rage is easy, irritation, lust of course. Depression has a scent in most people. Jealousy smells worse than rage.”

    “That’s weird and cool, Der,” Stiles said with a smile, as he tapped a rhythm on the steering wheel. A moment later he pulled off the road and parked beside the warehouse, and they slid out and made their way inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m enjoying this slower writing pace. Lol.  
> I’m not sure I have a ton of notes to add to this one. I updated to include a brief synopsis of book one for anyone who wants to jump in and just read this one. So if you’re wondering about the chapter count change, that’s it.  
> Next chapter contains the reveal one of my favorite pieces of fan-lore, and the Sheriff and Melissa’s sometimes-weekly dinner, which since they essentially co-raise their kids seems like a thing they would do.


	8. Chapter 8

615pm

    Melissa slipped into the seat across from John with a sigh. “Sorry I’m late,” she started, and he smiled. 

    “No worries, I’ve been trying to decide what artery clogging delight I’m going to take advantage of tonight.” 

    Melissa laughed. She knew John would end up ordering something fairly healthy, and knew he would most likely tell Stiles he ordered the most artery clogging option. Since John’s diagnosis two years before of slightly elevated cholesterol, Stiles and he had gone back and forth about Johns diet. And while his cholesterol was back under control, Stiles constantly pushed his father towards healthy choices, and John delighted in making Stiles crazy by telling him about the worst food choices possible.

    They chatted for a few minutes about work, and then John glanced around before asking, “So how are you really dealing with Scott’s new furry thing?” 

    She closed her eyes for a moment as she leaned back into the chair. “Honestly? I’m still freaking out. Laura is much better at keeping me in the loop than Derek is, so that’s nice. But still, werewolves? I keep having moments where it really hits me again and I just-“ She let her voice trail off, trying to find words for her feelings. 

           “I know what you mean. I get that it’s different for me, Stiles wasn’t the one bitten, but suddenly his life has changed. It’s been Scott and him versus the world for so long, and now he’s suddenly got this whole group of friends. Then yeah, I remember they’ve got-“ he waved his hand from side to side, “you know, the fur, the fangs, the glowing eyes.” He shook his head. “Remember when a couple weeks ago our biggest worry was if they were sneaking out to drink and if they did their homework?” 

         Melissa laughed, “The good old days?” 

         John grinned. “I’m not so sure. After Kate I wanted to lock Stiles in his room and not let him out again. But he’s been different lately, alive in a way I hadn’t realized he wasn’t. And I like the Hales. Derek’s a good kid, and he says he’ll make sure Stiles stays safe, so I’m just trying to remember that he’s almost 17, and I can’t just lock him in his room to keep him safe.” 

          She nodded in sympathy, “I know! My abuela called a couple of days ago and we were talking about Scott, and I realized that I now have a whole secret life I’m going to be hiding. But I’m glad it happened now, rather than in a year or two when they might have tried to keep it from us.” 

           “They’re not very good at keeping secrets,” John said, grinning, “I think I’d figure out something was going on fairly quickly.” 

           “Yes, but we wouldn’t guess werewolves, would we? I’d probably have assumed girls or booze probably.” 

            John chewed on his lip a bit, a habit she recognized from their years of friendship was a specific sign of family-related anxiety. “That’s another side of it. I don’t want them trying to keep things from us. I’ve been meaning to sit down with Chris Argent and get a ‘so your kid’s a werewolf 101’ from him. But with Raphael underfoot at the station I’ve just been too busy.” 

            She groaned. “God, I know. I ran into him at the gas station this afternoon and he acted like he hadn’t avoided me and Scott for the last 7 years.” 

            John bit off a laugh, “So he’s not trying to say it’s for your own good anymore?” 

           “No. But he did ask about Allison of all people. He didn’t know her name, but said he’d seen her and Scott together and wondered if that was his girlfriend. I told him if he’d tried harder as a father he’d know if she was.” 

           “They’re still planning on going out Friday night?” 

            “Yeah after the game. I talked to Laura about it to make sure it wouldn’t cause problems, since Scott is still learning control, but Laura thinks it should be ok, and Allison will be able to track if Scott starts to slip. This is a whole aspect of dating that the parenting books definitely do not cover.” 

            John laughed and started to reply when the smile slipped off his face and he merely said, “Speak of the devil, incoming ex.” 

            Melissa turned and saw Rafe just as he caught sight of them, and she watched him wave away the hostess and start to walk over. She sighed. “$20 says he’ll open with an insinuation we’re on a date.” 

           John snorted, “I’m not letting you win a sure bet.” 

          She glanced back at him with a smile. 

          “Well this is a surprise,” Rafe said. “I didn’t expect to run into you two. Together. I hope I’m not interrupting?” 

          She found it hard to resist rolling her eyes, “John and I try to grab dinner every week or so, since we end up co-parenting the boys most of the time with you and Claudia both being absent.” She knew it was a rude response, but Rafe’s lack of interest in being a father had been a sore point for years. 

           Rafe pursed his lips slightly, probably biting back an escalating response. “And yet I notice that I’m in town and I’m still not invited to join your dinner.”  

          “My understanding was you were having dinner with Scott,” she replied. 

           Rafe shrugged, “I’m grabbing food now then headed over. I lost track of time reading some case files.” 

          “Enjoy your dinner.” 

          “And you two enjoy your date,” he replied snidely. 

          “I’ve always wondered how someone who loves to jump to conclusions before he has the facts ever had a successful career with the FBI,” Melissa responded savagely. “Because you’ve implied or outright accused John and I of being in a relationship at least 6 times now, and you’ve never once been correct.” 

          “I’m not the only one who’s ever pointed out how cozy you are,” Rafe shot back. 

          “My wife was also suffering from the dementia that would eventually kill her when she said that,” John said quietly, and no one could miss the silent rage that underlay the words. “So I think it’s time you go get your food and spend time with your kid rather than try to dig up old grief and lies.” 

           Rafe stood there staring for a moment before he broke eye contact and walked off.

           John looked back at Melissa, “Honestly, what did you ever see in him?” 

          Melissa laughed. “I was 16, and had terrible taste. He had a great car and this kind of intensity when he looked at me. It took me awhile to realize the great car and the brooding didn’t make a good husband. And by then we were both in school and Scott was on the way. Thank god for my sisters, if they hadn’t been around to help with the baby I have no idea how things might have turned out.”

          “Are they coming out this summer?” 

          “Possibly. Helen for sure since Riley and Spencer are in college out here. Jennifer and Robbie are talking about going to Yellowstone instead, so we’ll see what happens.” 

           “We could always pack the boys up and meet them up there. I haven’t been in years and Stiles has never been. I’ve certainly got the vacation time.” 

           “That sounds great, I’ll talk to Helen and Jenn about it.”  

  


7pm 

    The changes in the warehouse in just a few days were astounding. Allison had wondered what Laura had been doing with her time, and now she could see the alpha had been busy. Not just with adding furniture, but also the beginning of some strategic construction. Metal partial walls were bolted to the ceiling and sunk into new concrete that had clearly been recently poured, to provide some defenses to the room. The scent of wolfsbane was still in the air, but much fainter than she expected. 

    She watched as Laura came around one of the walls and handed Stiles a Sprite with a big smirk on her face. “So what do you think Robin? A decent Bat-cave?” 

    “Dammit Laura, I told you, I’m the Batman here.”

    She snorted, “Sure you are. Maybe Nightwing,”

    “Hell yeah, I’ll take it. Nightwing is awesome!” Stiles replied. Allison slipped in between the two Hales, leaning in to touch them both. 

           She saw the startled look on Stiles’ face, and a moment later a clear realization. It made her smile inside to watch the way that his thoughts were so clear on his face. It was what her dad called an honest face, revealing his thoughts and feelings openly. She’d noticed it about both Scott and him, they weren’t people used to hiding things, and it saddened her that very soon they’d change. The supernatural world wasn’t a world for honest faces. 

            A ding on her phone made her glance at the screen. “Lydia says they're about fifteen minutes away,” she said looking at Laura. 

            “Gary and Billy should be here before that. They’re on the way back with food now, and Scott is running late with his dad so he might not make it.”

             “God he’s the worst,” Stiles grumbled. “I mean Agent Asshole obviously.” 

             “What’s the deal with him?” Allison asked. “Scott hasn’t really wanted to talk about him.” 

             “After like champion levels of absentee fatherism up to and including forgetting birthdays and anniversaries Melissa finally kicked him out when Scott was 9. And Scott didn’t see him again for two years until Agent Asshole randomly just showed up and wished Scott a happy birthday on the wrong day. Since then it’s mostly been the occasional call or card. Then a year ago he dropped in and mentioned he’d gotten remarried and wife number two is pregnant, but he didn’t bring her to meet Scott, and hasn’t asked Scott to come visit. But he did feel free to mention that he had learned from his mistakes when Scott was little and wanted to be a better father to the new kids.” 

           “Wow. Sounds like a winner,” Allison added dryly. 

           “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to when he interviews me. Speaking of,” he looked at Derek, “when are you supposed to talk to him?” 

            “Tomorrow in the afternoon. I have an appointment with the building inspector at 10 to see if there are any problems with the building I’m looking at. Then I understand there’s a lacrosse game I can’t miss.” 

             “Look at you with a busy schedule!” Stiles teased. He looked over at Allison and added, “When I first met him it was all ‘grrr pesky youths!’ and looming behind trees.” 

             Derek sighed, “My life was so much easier then. Now I’ve got a pack of idiot teenagers around all the time. No time for looming behind trees at all.” 

             “Poor Der,” Laura said, “I have no idea how you manage.” 

             “Hot chocolate and breakfast burritos mostly,” Derek said with a small smile.

              Behind them Allison heard the door open and she realized she’d been so distracted that she’d missed Gary and Billy pulling up outside. She turned and watched them slip in, wide grins on their faces as they caught sight of her. Billy pushed up into her space as soon as he got close enough. She’d so been busy with her dad and getting Jackson up and running that she hadn’t seen either beta for a couple of days. He was one of the members of Satomi’s pack she was closest to, and it relaxed something in her she hadn’t realized was tense. 

            Beside her though, she felt Derek start to tense up and she realized that with his new alphahood a non-pack beta getting in his space was likely stressful, and she saw the realization dawn on Billy at the same time. He pulled away and stepped back. Derek looked over at them and winced. “It’s fine,” he got out, “it just caught me by surprise.” 

           Billy smiled, “Hey Derek, no. It’s good. It’s a big change. How’re you doing? I’m a little surprised you’re here actually. A rising alpha is usually pretty volatile around non-Pack wolves.” 

           “Yeah, it’s-“ Derek crossed his arms over his chest defensively, “it’s a change. I didn’t think it would be this hard.” 

            “Don’t worry, I’ll keep back,” Billy said easily and Allison had a quick flash of appreciation for the born wolf. They chattered for a few minutes about the week. Billy had had a brief interview with McCall and his partner that day, but since he’d only been involved in the attack on the warehouse and not Kate’s death, it had been pretty short. But when he finished telling them about the interview there was a moment when he paused, unsure if he should go on. 

            “What is it?” Allison finally asked. 

            “Well, during the interview McCall said something. It wasn’t direct exactly. But I kind of wonder if he knows about us. Werewolves I mean.” 

           Allison saw Laura turn away from where she was teasing Stiles and focus on Billy immediately. “What does that mean? What did he say?” she asked. 

           “It was after I’d answered his questions and he was thanking me for my time and everything. He said something like ‘wouldn’t it all be a lot easier if we could just throw the kidnappers to the wolves’ or something like that. He didn’t act like there was any particular meaning to it, and maybe I’m just reacting to something that didn’t mean anything. But I just think we need to be careful.” 

            Laura and Derek glanced at each other and then at Allison in silent question. “Dad doesn’t know him,” she answered, “It doesn’t mean he’s not a hunter, but if he is, it’s nobody dad has met before.” 

            Laura nodded and Derek relaxed slightly. Outside, Allison could hear a car pull up and could hear the distinctive sounds of Lydia’s heartbeat and a second heart that sounded like Jackson. A moment later they came through the door, Lydia bold and fearless, followed by Jackson, trying not to appear defensive and angry, but failing. 

            “Hey Jackson, Lydia,” Allison said, trying to project a happy and calm exterior.

            “Hey,” Jackson said as he glanced around, and Allison could see both of them taking in Laura’s stressed face and Derek’s defensive stance. But a moment later Laura smiled widely as she relaxed and stepped forward. 

            “Hi, I’m Laura.” She said in her usual sunny way. Warm and strong. She held out her hand and shook first Lydia’s and then Jackson’s hands, then pointing out the others, “the judgy eyebrows is my brother Derek, Stiles and Allison you know, and this is Gary and Billy who are visiting from the Redding pack.” 

          As Derek started to step forward to shake hands Allison saw him pause and glance at Laura and saw Laura’s small nod, and she saw Lydia also catch the exchange, and her eyes narrowed slightly. A moment later after Gary said hi,  Billy stepped forward and shook the newcomers’ hands. Allison also saw his eyes widen slightly as he looked first at Jackson and then Laura, a question clear in the glance.

          They all stood and talked for a few minutes before they sat, and Allison half listened as Laura explained to Jackson and Lydia what had been going on, including a little background about the Hale Fire and Hunters in general. As she wound down her explanation she added that she’d love to work with Jackson to help him learn control even if he opted to stay an omega rather than join the pack. 

           The bulk of Allison’s attention was focused on that moment when both Derek and Billy had turned to Laura when they first met Jackson, and she wondered what they had noticed that she had missed. She barely paid attention to the questions that Jackson and Lydia asked, or Laura’s answers, until Stiles leaned closer and whispered, “What’s wrong?” 

           “Nothing,” she said with a smile, turning to him, “I was just distracted and thinking.” 

           “Are you still starting at school with us tomorrow?” 

           “Monday I think. Dad found another house he wants to check out. Plus I really need to get in a hard workout. I’m missing the pack gym in Redding already.” 

            “I’ve been running in the nature preserve in the mornings, if you want to join me tomorrow?” Billy said. 

            “That would be great. I’m going to need to figure out a whole new routine,” Allison said with a little laugh. She turned to Laura and Derek, “Do you guys want to come too?” 

            Derek turned toward Laura, who shrugged. “I could use a run I guess,” he finally said. “I can’t stay in hiding forever.” 

            “I’ll come too then,” Laura said to her brother, “just in case,” she added softly. He nodded and looked away.

            Laura turned to Jackson, “Do you want to join us?” 

            Allison saw Jackson start to stiffen up, but before he could say whatever his intended response was, Lydia gripped his arm and looked at him, and he relaxed and glanced over at her. After a moment he nodded. “What time, and where?” he finally asked.

            Laura’s eyes went back to Derek and Billy, then said, “6 at our old house? There’s a path we used to run up to Murray Hill. We can take that.” 

            Everyone agreed and after that the meeting started to break up. Jackson had some homework to work on and needed to get home, and Allison could see Derek watching Stiles who was starting to fade as well. As she drove home, her thoughts kept drifting back to the strange looks the three born wolves had exchanged when they’d met Jackson, and she wondered what she was missing.

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, it’s been so long! I’m so sorry. This chapter was a bear to write and I finally had to switch POVs to make it work. But it’s here. It won’t be long for chapter 8 since I’m currently on a break from work.  
> Hit me up your opinions on resurrected characters like the show did with Peter and Kate. If I resurrected someone, who should it be?  
> And what the hell do you think is up with wretched Rafe?


	9. Chapter 9

Friday January 21st, 2011

8am

         Derek was fairly certain that eventually someone was going to comment about him sleeping in a teenager’s room every night. So he tried to fall asleep in the guest room the sheriff had showed him the first night. But it ended up that he still couldn’t sleep, knowing that Scott and Stiles were unprotected down the hall. So around 1 he’d finally given up on sleeping in the bed, and shifted back to wolf and slunk back down the hall. It had only taken minutes for him to fall asleep then.

         Stiles alarm woke him up at 530 and in the other room he could hear his own alarm go off. 

         “Up Cuddlewolf,” Stiles said sleepily as he turned off the alarm and next to him Scott slept on obliviously. Stiles himself was asleep again before Derek had stretched and made it out the door of his room. 

          Back in the guest room he shifted back upright and turned off his own quiet alarm. He could hear all three sleeping heartbeats around him, calm and steady. He didn’t know how to describe the sense of pack in words, but it filled him in that moment. 

         Since he’d become an alpha it had become sharper and he could sense the differences between bonds in a way he’d never noticed as a beta. The connection developing between Stiles and him was so different than with Scott that he was shocked he’d never noticed the difference before Peter died. That back of the head constant awareness of a packmate has changed too. Since his family died the only connection he’d felt there was with his sister, and the burgeoning connections that were growing threatened to overwhelm him at times. But it felt good too, like he was finally healing after years without, and he wondered again why Laura had never felt driven to build a pack herself, if maybe that was her response to the loss of their pack. 

          After running with Laura and the betas he returned to the Stilinski home to shower before he met the building inspector at 10 when the guy should be finishing up the last part of his inspection. He’d see Laura again after that.

          He stood on the sheriff’s porch looking at the key for a moment and then he let his eyes wander the slightly neglected yard. It was still a marvel to him to be so easily accepted into their home, and into their lives. It felt like cheating, like it was all going to be taken away as quickly as he’d found it. It wasn’t that he distrusted the Stilinskis, he just didn’t believe that any good things could last. 

         He’d even felt, when Laura was taken, that it had a certain inevitability. She was the last good thing in his life after all. But then he’d found allies where he hadn’t expected. And Laura has been rescued, then Stiles had managed to free them from Kate. It had unsettled that expectation of disaster that filled his head. 

         He knew that the deaths of Kate and Peter still hadn't really sunk in. And the changes to his body as the alpha gift changed him were not making it any easier. He’d tried to explain it to Laura and she said she understood, but he wasn’t sure how since he barely understood it. 

           Standing there on the porch staring off at the unpruned roses as the sweat dried on his skin, feeling a cacophony of competing emotions, he heard the door open behind him, but recognizing the sheriff’s heartbeat he didn’t turn around. 

           “How are you holding up?” John asked quietly, and Derek felt a warm bump against his hand as the sheriff passed him one of the two cups of coffee he carried.

          “Sometimes I think I’m okay,” Derek replied, “and then something happens and I realize I’m just-“ he paused, searching for words. “Numb maybe? So much happened so fast.” 

          “Are you ready for your meeting with McCall today?” John asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.

          “I think so. Laura’s lawyer will be there. And they’ve already let him know that with my past with Kate if it becomes too much they’re going to end the interview.” Telling the sheriff the truth about Kate and him, and about the fire, had been mortifying. But it had filled in a part of the case that had been missing. John already had plans to interview the fire inspector about his report, and the knowledge had opened new avenues in search of evidence. 

            “I think we’ve managed to account for everything to cover up the claw and fang part, besides giving Kate a motive for the fire. That part is going to probably be what Raphael focuses on. He’s playing it close on what else they have on Kate, but there’s something. He’s focused on her in all of his interviews in that sideways FBI approach, so be careful there.” 

            Derek nodded slightly, he could feel the tension through his body. Today was going to be a particularly terrible kind of hell, but probably the least payment he could make considering his part in the fire. 

           “Are you sleeping any better?” 

           “Depends on what you mean by better I guess. I didn’t wake up as much last night, but I still couldn’t fall asleep in the guest room.” 

            “You’ll get there. Laura told you your alpha instincts would be like that at first.” 

            Derek made a noise, not agreeing or disagreeing. “How is this not weird for you?” 

             John shrugged. “It is a bit. But I know what I was like when Stiles was born. Jesus I got up and checked on him at least twice every hour or so that first week. So I understand that. There are parts I don’t necessarily understand, that I probably can’t really. But that? Yeah, I get that. Don’t think I haven’t wanted to lock him up in that room so he stays safe since Kate. He’s my only kid. But knowing you’re there, and you’re keeping watch? Hell yeah I feel better. You seem to think that at some point I’m going to start thinking of you as dangerous, but I know how dangerous even ordinary people are to each other, the potential to be dangerous doesn’t make you any different from anyone else.” 

            He patted Derek on the shoulder and turned back into the house. After a moment, Derek followed him inside and closed the door.

1030am

          Chris pulled into the driveway of the house the realtor had emailed him. It wasn’t quite what he was looking for, quite a bit bigger for one, and he couldn’t figure out what he’d use all that space for, but he’d asked about houses that were on the edge of the Preserve and this one has come up. It was an old listing, the house had been unoccupied for almost a year since the owner had retired to Florida. It had wraparound porches on the first and second floors that didn’t quite match the original Victorian look. But there was also something about it that drew the eye. He looked at Allison who was giving it an interested look. She turned and caught him looking and smiled before she unlatched her seatbelt and slid out the door.

           Chris noticed her scenting the air and she smiled and headed through the card, calling back to him, “You’re the one who taught me to pay attention to my surroundings.” Chris went to the porch and checked the railing, it seemed sturdy. Allison got closer and started to reach her hand out but stopped before she could touch it. “Mountain ash,” she whispered. She started to walk along the railing, feeling her way along. “It’s an unbroken line of it. There’s no way this was by chance. Someone build a werewolf resistant fortress.” 

            “Hunters do you think?” Chris asked. 

            “Maybe. Or witches. If it’s witches then this is probably on one of the telluric crossroads, I wonder if Laura knows anything about it.”

            “So this one is a no then?” Chris said. 

            “I’m not saying no,” she replied. “I bet the actual entrances aren’t ash. Let’s check.” 

             They wandered back up and she walked up to the front door and touched it. “Yeah, it makes sense,” she knelt to examine the top step and Chris stepped forward to look too. “It’s just pine here. But if you’re expecting supernatural problems you can easily swap it out with mountain ash I bet. Which means-“ she turned and walked towards the porch and stopped at the corner of the house where a diagonal board ran from the railing to the wall. “There it is. It’s actually brilliant.” 

            As she was walking back across the front of the porch to map out the limits of the mountain ash, another car pulled in and his realtor Sandra got out and waved. “Hi Chris!” she said, smiling, “I see you found the place ok.” 

           “I did,” Chris replied. “You remember Allison.” 

           “Of course! Checking out the porch I see, it’s so unusual the wraparound on both first and second floors, it’s definitely the only one like it in Beacon County. Will Matherly, he’s the owner, it was built by his grandparents. Well rebuilt really. Parts of the house are much older, one of the oldest in this part of the state. The only other one that preceded it that I can think of would have been the original Hale House of course, but it’s long gone.” 

             “Is that the one that burned?” Allison asked.

             “That’s the one!” Sandra said, then added, “well not the one that burned a few years ago, of course, no that’s actually the third Hale House if you can believe it. Built in 63 I think. I was talking about the one they have a photo of at the high school.”

             “I don’t start until next week,” Allison said, “but I’ll have to check out the photo.” 

             Sandra led them through the house pointing out features and architectural curiosities. When it was all done she turned to the two Argents and said, “So what do you think?” 

             Chris looked around again, and was surprised to hear Allison say, “I like it.” 

             “Well,” Sandra said enthusiastically, “I’ll let you look around some more and talk it over.” 

             After she left, Chris turned to Allison, “really?” 

             “Really,” she nodded. “I love the defensibility. Wolf or not there’s a lot of other supernatural baddies out there that’ll be kept out, so that’s attractive. I think it’s the price range you were looking at. What do you think?” 

             “It’s a lot bigger than I was looking for. A lot,” Chris said with a slight grin, “and I’m not sure how I feel about living in a house that could be used to trap my daughter inside. But I do love a lot about it. Shall we think on it for a day or two?” 

             “Definitely. It’s the one I’ve liked the most on its own. But I want to look into the history a bit. I’ve never heard of a Matherly family of Hunters, but I haven’t heard of any witches by that name either.”

             “Well you needed homework,” he replied dryly. 

             “I’ll start with Laura, I’m sure she knows something if it’s that connected to the Hales.” 

4pm

          The day had been more brutal than Derek could have imagined. He was already in a bad mood after his meeting with the property inspector. The building was a definite no since it had a bunch of problems, including some code violations that were so severe the inspector was planning to turn the contractor in to the state. 

           And McCall had certainly not gone easy during his interview. Just as John had guessed, the agent had definitely been very interested in what Derek felt Kate’s motives for the fire were and what she had said while she had him at the house. Despite it all, Derek had made it through with only a few breaks to get himself back in control. But now he was completely wrung out.

            Laura held onto his hand as they left the station and he leaned into her for comfort. When they got outside they paused while Laura and the lawyer exchanged some last words, but after a moment he pulled away and slid into the Camaro and closed his eyes. He was still sitting there in silence, eyes closed when Laura got into the driver's seat.

          She sat for a moment before saying, “Do you want to talk?”

          He shook his head, not opening his eyes. 

          “Do you want me to talk?” she followed it up with, and he nodded immediately. Laura’s voice was soothing, and he knew it would calm the jagged harshness the day had kicked up for him. 

           She started the car and pulled away, but didn’t follow the expected route to the sheriff’s house. He opened his eyes to watch where she was going. As she drove, she talked about one of her high school friends he only half remembered and her current relationship woes. It was an old trick that Laura had used a million times on him when he was having a bad day. He watched her take the road north out of town and took the turn to that last left turn and he realized where she was heading. 

           When she turned off the engine she also stopped talking and they sat in silence for a few minutes. “Maybe it’s a sign of some kind,” she said, breaking the silence. “Or maybe it’s chance. I don’t know. Maybe we only see a pattern because that’s the way our brains work. But I think of mom buying this place to secure our territory, and I see this building, all stone and brick, and immune to fire, and I see the potential.” 

            Derek shook his head, opened the door and got out. He turned and looked at the old rail station and tried to see the potential in it that his sister did. He heard her open her door and come stand beside him. “This doesn’t feel like a home to me,” he finally spoke, quiet and tired. 

           “Then find something that does say home to you,” Laura answered. “Talk to John, he might have some ideas. Or talk to Chris Argent, he’s been looking at places too, maybe he’s seen something. Oh! Speaking of, Allison texted me earlier about that. They checked out the Matherly house today.” 

            “Holy crap!” Derek said, suddenly engaged, “did old Will die?” 

            “No apparently he got tired of trying to interest one of the cousins in the place and moved to Florida last year and put the place up for sale.” 

            “That’s definitely not in the running for houses I want to live in. Can you imagine? I bet the ghost of Flory Matherly herself would rise from the grave.” 

            Laura snorted, “Gustav Halle might rise from the grave alongside her.” 

            “I’m not sure I want to see either of them across the dinner table. Are they thinking about it?” 

             “Apparently. She wanted to know if the Matherly’s were hunters or witches, once they saw the mountain ash on the porch. I called and gave her a ten second view on the Matherly’s, not our history with them, just you know, witches, crazy ancestor, and that stuff.” 

              He nodded, “We should explain it in detail if they decide to buy it. Just in case there is a curse on the house.” He started to walk forward, glancing at the abandoned rail cars rusting in the fading afternoon light, and the unused tracks on rotting timbers that lay everywhere. The station itself wasn’t a bad building, if you got rid of the old rail cars and tracks. The new rail line had been built in the 60s, shifting everything northward out of downtown Beacon Hills and leaving behind the station as a relic of a different era. He glanced over his shoulder at Laura, “Did you bring the keys?” 

             She laughed and nodded, reaching back inside to grab the keys that Martin had given him and they set off to check out the inside together.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the fresh hell? TWO CHAPTERS in less than a week? Craziness.   
> So there was quite a bit of discussion between my beta reader and I about how much info-dumping on Matherly House should be here. There’s obviously more there, and more to come though not anytime soon exactly. Let me know your thoughts on it!


	10. Chapter 10

7pm

          Stiles was ready for the week to be over. He’d gone home to an empty house and slept for two hours after school since there was a game later and no lacrosse practice to have to coach Scott and Jackson through. As he got out of the Jeep he thought back on the day. 

           He’d gotten called to the front office in first period about his schedule change, and he’d been impressed that Lydia had managed it already, just as she’d said. When he left his third period class he already had his honors history book and started heading to Mr Castaneda’s class when suddenly Lydia was walking beside him.

          “Okay good, you already have your book. The key to this is that Tammy is always cutting it right before the tardy bell, so if we’re early I can manage the situation when she gets there.” 

           “And good morning to you too Lydia, oh star of the morning and terrifying rearranger of schedules.” 

           “Don’t be silly, Danny rearranges the schedules,” Lydia said smiling deeply. “And why does Derek Hale look almost exactly like Scott’s cousin Miguel?” 

            “Ummmm,” Stiles said, “Uhhhh Derek’s middle name is Miguel?” Stiles was very aware of the occasional glances he was getting from some of the other students in the hall.

            “Terrible,” Lydia said. “You’re a cops kid, how can you lie this badly? Never tell a lie that can be fact checked. Say ‘it’s a nickname’ or something like that.” 

             “You terrify me Lydia Martin.” Stiles replied. “I’m over here wondering how I did on my Spanish quiz last period, and you’re giving me pointers on lying better.” 

             They walked into Castenada’s room and Lydia guided them to her usual table and she pointed Stiles spot out to him. “Sit,” she commanded. 

              Stiles sat. She slipped into her own seat and said, “Okay, get out your chemistry homework. I need to go over the answers.” 

               Stiles rolled his eyes knowing she had a 101% in chemistry currently, but got out his homework. She quickly started looking it over, a minute later a girl Stiles didn’t know was hovering in front of the table, and Stiles went, “ummmmmm” again. Lydia looked up, and smiled widely. He was pretty sure the lighting in the room did actually brighten. That had to be a real thing right?

            “Tammy, hey, do you mind if Stiles sits here today? I need some help with my chemistry and so he’s supposed to be tutoring me, but with the game tonight I just won’t be able to meet after school.” 

            The girl, who was apparently Tammy, melted before the Martin smile and indomitable will, just like Stiles had. It actually made him feel better that he wasn’t the only one affected by it. “Sure Lydia, yeah that’s fine.” 

            “Thanks Tammy!” Lydia chirped. Tammy shuffled away. 

            “Out of curiosity, has anyone ever said no to you rearranging their lives for them?” 

            “Jackson. Once,” Lydia replied. “Well, for awhile,” she paused, “it’s rare that I act that openly is the key. But I’ll follow it up later with something, maybe I’ll buy her lunch, or give her a little gift. Something to cement that she did me a favor, and then it’ll be done.” The bell rang and Castenada started the class, but that explanation stuck with Stiles, and he wondered whether or not he was just another cog that Lydia had moved into place.

* * *

 

             Lydia and Allison had gotten Laura into a bright red Beacon Hills Lacrosse sweatshirt and the three were clearly having a great time as Stiles limped his way into the stands. Harley, who he’d known since 1st grade. stopped him on the way to his seat and said, “Hey Stiles, who’s the new girl I’ve seen you with?” 

              “New girl?” Stiles said blankly, trying to think back to any new girls in his classes. 

              “The one sitting with Lydia?” Harley said gesturing.

               “Oh Allison. Yeah she’s a friend. She just moved to town.” 

                “Wow and Lydia’s already got her claws in there. She moves fast,” Harley said, and Stiles belatedly remembered that she had some grudge against Lydia, though he wasn’t sure what it was all about.

                 “I think they bonded over outerwear or something,” Stiles said, trying to take Lydia’s advice on plausible lies. 

                “That’s good to know. I wanted to talk to you anyway, to see how you were doing since, you know, the incident,” Harley looked at him closely. 

                “Oh I’ll be fine, a week or two and it won’t even hurt anymore,” Stiles said, gesturing at his leg. 

                “Well if you need some help with the homework you missed in chemistry while you were out let me know. You could come over and we could watch a movie or something.” 

                “That’s so sweet. Thanks Harley, I’ve actually already got it done. Thank god it was early in the semester and we hadn’t gotten to any of the big labs yet,” Stiles said, watching the players start to come onto the field. “But hey I should grab my seat, come say hi later and I’ll introduce you to Allison!” 

                 “Yeah, for sure I will!” Harley said with a smile, and Stiles made his way up the steps and slipped in between Laura and Allison. 

                 “Hey Robin, who’s your friend?” Laura asked. 

                 “Oh Harley? I‘ve known her since forever. She’s super nice, she wanted to check and make sure I didn’t get behind in chemistry. Harris is kind of an asshole and if you get behind you’ll be screwed.” 

                 “So she wasn’t inviting you over to her house?” Laura said looking at him.

                 “I mean yes, but if I needed help with my homework,” Stiles explained. He saw Allison and Laura exchange a look of disbelief.

                 “She’s thoughtful like that!” he added, “It’s not like a ‘she likes me’ thing, she’s just really nice.” 

                 “If you say so Stiles,” Laura said. 

                “More importantly, who is the guy talking to your dad?” Lydia added, and Stiles looked around for his dad but it took him a moment to find him without the uniform on. 

                “That’s Allison’s Dad,” Stiles answered. 

                “Oh. Oh my.” Lydia replied and everyone laughed, though Allison had a slightly scandalized look on her face.

               They watched the first quarter of the game, and eventually Chris and the Sheriff came over and joined them, squeezing in around the kids, though Stiles kept looking around for Derek. 

                There was a near accident at almost the end of the second quarter, but Laura was able to talk Jackson down from losing control. He was still new enough that he couldn’t always track what Stiles was saying in a crowd, but the alpha’s voice had some element that he seemed able to focus on. Stiles made a note to ask Laura about that later. 

                Finally Allison bumped against him arm as he was looking around again. “He’s here, don’t worry.” 

                Stiles rolled his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

               She laughed, “You’re not very subtle. You’ve been looking around every five minutes. He’s down at the end of the field. I think he’s a little on edge tonight.” 

              “Do you think I should go talk to him?” he asked after a moment, “To see if he’s okay?” 

              “He might appreciate that.” 

              He smiled at her and slipped out of his seat, though his leg had stiffened up and was incredibly sore again. He told his dad he’d be back in a few and made his way out of the stands to where he could see Derek looking a little lost not far away. He made his way over to him, not sure what to say, so he just opened his mouth and started, “Lacrosse is based on a Native American game, where hundreds of players would play from sunup to sun down, sometimes for days.” 

             Derek glanced at him and some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to fall away. “I guess you wouldn’t be a benchwarmer in one of those games,” he said, smiling. 

            “With my luck I probably still would be. It’s not my best sport.” 

            “Why do you play?” Derek asked looking at him.

            “Scott.” Stiles shrugged. “I run track and used to do cross country, but Scott wanted to try lacrosse but didn’t want to do it alone, so here we are.” 

            “He couldn’t try out by himself?” 

            “Dude, have you met Scott, I mean, he’s-“ Stiles looked for the right words, “he doesn’t do things by himself well.” 

            “Codependent?” Derek asked.

            “Not really?” Stiles said kind of half squirming, “I mean maybe a little, but we both are I guess. His mom works a ton, my dad too. So it’s been him and I for so long.” 

             Derek nodded. “Laura and I are like that too I guess. I think it’s part of why she’s never tried to grow the pack.” He looked away. “There were a couple friends the first couple years in New York that I think she was trying to see how it would work out, but I wasn’t really in a good place for a long time, and then she stopped trying and-“ he stopped.

             “And you didn’t ever tell her you were ready for her to start again?” 

             Derek shrugged. “I don’t know if I was ready. When I got back here, I was sure I was going to lose her too, and then Scott was bit, and I didn’t want him to have to do this alone.” 

             “And it just happened. And now you’ve got a pack of teenagers you don’t know what to do with?” 

            Derek rolled his eyes. “Stiles, you guys are the best thing that could have happened to me. There was no time for me to second guess it or talk myself out of it. And now it’s already done.”

            Stiles grinned and leaned into the older man. Derek laughed and leaned back. After a moment he stood up and looked back to Derek. “So I have a question about last week, something that I keep wondering but I don’t know quite how to bring it up without it being weird.” 

           “Well, you’re usually weird, so just go for it.” 

           “It’s about Peter,” Stiles said, watching Derek carefully.

           “Okay,” Derek said, shoving his hands into his pockets, “ask me.” 

           “Why did you guys leave him here when you left?” 

           Derek looked away. “I didn’t want to.” He was quiet for a moment and Stiles almost said something to follow up but finally Derek started talking again. “Peter was my mom’s youngest brother, and he was wild when he was younger. Like ran off for months at a time. Not feral exactly. But he did his own thing a lot. He got mixed up with this alpha named Deucalion who’d lost most of his pack to hunters and he became pretty big in the werewolf separatist movement, which morphed into a werewolf supremacist movement. They wouldn’t call it that, but that’s what it was.” 

          Derek’s face grew even more tense. “The movement also coincided with an era where a lot of younger alphas were moving away from the older traditions, and one of the traditions they discarded was the traditional pack anchor.” 

          “I know you’ve talked about anchors with Scott, but what’s it do exactly?” 

          Derek looked at him, “You can ask 50 wolves and get 50 slightly different replies, but it’s essentially a tie to something external to help keep the human side dominant over the Wolf. To keep us from losing our humanity in the wolf.” 

          Stiles nodded. “Ok. And why was using the pack as your anchor a problem?” 

          “Take it to its conclusion,” Derek said quietly. “My pack is my anchor, if Laura had died in the fire?” 

          And it crystallized in Stiles head, “That’s what happened to Peter. He lost his anchor in the fire.” 

           Derek nodded. “He and Laura were never close. And a few years before the fire, things started to get worse between them. My mom was our alpha before Laura, and she-“ Derek wipes away a tear, “she survived the longest in the fire. When she finally-“ he paused, “Peter must already have been in very bad shape and when the alpha spark switched to Laura, there wasn’t enough of Peter left to hold the pack bond. Laura wasn’t connected enough to him to maintain the bond on her own.” 

            “I’d wondered about that,” Stiles said. “If the connection to pack was constant or if it could be broken.” 

            “Packs are usually pretty stable, but they change over time. People change, relationships change. I think Satomi had hoped that connection would form between Gary and us as well, and gradually he’d become part of our pack not just Allison. But it hasn’t happened. There’s more of a connection between Billy and the pack, and I don’t think he’s going to stay either.” 

            “That’s too bad, I like him.” 

            “He’ll stay our friend, just because he’s not pack doesn’t mean he isn’t a friend. And who knows, someday it might change and he does join us. I imagine with a pack as large as the Redding pack and as many bitten wolves as there are that Satomi probably loses and gains a new wolf a couple times a year. Smaller packs are a lot more tight knit.” 

               “Thanks for explaining it. I wanted to ask Laura, but I didn’t want her to take it like I was criticizing her or something.” 

                “It’s a sensitive point with her. She came back a couple times every year to spend time with Peter to try and build a bond, but it never worked. If she’d been able to make that connection he’d likely have been able to heal the damage.”

              “Wait really?” Stiles said.

              Derek nodded. “Pack wolves are a lot stronger than omegas. We heal faster, our senses are better.” 

              “Any perks for the regular humans?” 

              “Actually yes,” Derek said with a smile. “Your senses won’t change, but you’ll probably heal faster. If you had magic your ability would get stronger, I’ve heard that just being in a pack will help humans develop magic, but I don't know if that’s true.” 

              “You mentioned emissaries awhile back, when I met Deaton. Is that what they are, humans with magic?” 

              “Not necessarily,” Derek said. “They’re usually human yes, but not necessarily magic, though most are anymore, at least dabblers. They’re-“ he paused, “They’re the connective tissue between the packs I guess. They’ll do most of the legwork of setting up alliances and treaties between packs. They’re like the Secretary of State, I guess. They do a lot of diplomacy between packs because two alphas not of the same pack in a room is going to usually be a fight for dominance.” 

             “Literally or metaphorically?” Stiles asked.

             “Yes,” Derek answered, grinning.

             “God you’re such a sasshole. No wonder we get along.” He smiled up at Derek. “Sasswolf.” 

             Derek laughed. “A good emissary is worth as much as a good alpha. A lot of packs, especially family packs where the alpha passes through the line like in mine, recruit specifically for their emissary like my mom did. Deaton is from a family of very famous ones.” 

             “Was he a good one?” 

             Derek was quiet for a moment. “He was a good one for my mom. Their strengths complimented each other. He and Laura not so much. I imagine Laura will be looking for one of her own soon enough now that we have a real pack again.” 

             “Maybe whoever she gets can teach me some magic. Like Deaton does with the mountain ash and stuff.” 

             “Just ask Deaton,” Derek said. “I imagine he’d be willing to teach you if you have a gift to learn it.” 

             “He’s just going to teach some random kid all his magical secrets?” Stiles said skeptically. 

             Derek laughed, “No probably not all of them. And you’re not a random kid, he knows you’re pack. But he’ll get you started and once you have the basics it’s just a matter of practice, I think.” 

             “Cool. I guess I’ll talk to him. I was going to ask him about the mountain ash thing anyway. Are we still on for tomorrow? The cemetery?” 

             Derek nodded. “Later in the morning maybe? I know Laura wants to go for a run with Scott and Jackson, but after.” 

            “Works for me. Can I ask you about Jackson now?” 

            Derek stilled. “What about Jackson?” 

            Stiles smirked. “Funny, that was going to be my question. Last night you and your sister both reacted when you met him. I know Allison noticed it too.” 

            Derek took a deep breath. “It’s complicated. There is something. But we really need to talk to Jackson about it first and this morning wasn’t the right time. I think Laura is planning to talk to him about it tomorrow after the run.” 

             “But nothing bad?” 

              Derek was quiet for a moment. “No, nothing bad.” 

 

915pm

        Rafe McCall watched the end of the game in silence. Cheering along with the crowd when his son’s team won, but the pit of his stomach felt like a giant stone had taken hold. There’d been a moment during the game when one of Scott’s teammates had been facing his direction and he’d seen the telltale gleam of glowing beta gold eyes which helped confirmed his suspicions about what had been going on in Beacon Hills. 

          Fortunately he had backup coming to help him sort the mess out. For all their personal issues, the old man and he agreed on how to deal with newly bitten werewolves. And he was starting to get a good idea of where he could start getting some answers about what had happened to Peter Hale, and the real circumstances behind Kate Argent’s death. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text message before he followed the rest of the crowd out to congratulate the team on their win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nebulous nature of the pack emissary is one of the more irritating failures of Jeff, and I spent some time thinking about what best made sense for this story going forward.  
> The part about Peter is another aspect of canon that fails us. My headcanon for the show is that S1 Peter is not unjustified in killing the alpha that abandoned him when he was alone and defenseless, which led me down the path of ‘what if there’s a reason Laura didn’t consider Peter pack?’ which led me here. Eventually you’ll get Laura’s take on things, which is a little different.  
> The next chapter is coming together, and we’re only a couple of chapters away from my next major curveball from canon, so I’m excited about that.


	11. Chapter 11

8am

         Stiles groaned when his alarm went off. Alarm clocks on Saturdays were the deepest sort of heresy in his opinion. He turned off the alarm and dragged himself to the bathroom. He vaguely remembered Scott crawling into bed when he got back from his date with Allison, but he was already gone and Derek’s usual corner was empty, so he assumed they’d left to go running as planned. 

         He climbed into the shower and let the heat soak in, reaching down and carefully massaging his injured leg. It was already less sore than it had been the previous few days. He finished up and made his way back to his room to get dressed. 

         Stiles enjoyed the quiet in the house after the near constant presence of people for the last week. He tried not to think about his interview with McCall on Monday. His mind drifted to that moment when Laura had finally met Jackson. Her reaction had been so strange, at first a slight pulling away and then a slight drawing closer. He wanted to believe Derek when he said Jackson wasn't going to be a problem, but something was going on. Well, hopefully it would come out soon enough. 

          He made his way carefully down the stairs, but faster than he’d done the previous days. There was a covered plate with his name on it in Derek’s crisp clear writing. He slipped the foil off and smiled at the eggs and hash browns. Grabbing a fork he dug in, not even bothering to heat it back up. When he finished, he headed out the door, climbed into the Jeep and made his way over to Deaton’s office.

          He glanced at his watch, knowing Scott worked on Saturday mornings for the vet, but his shift wasn’t for a couple of hours yet. It was almost 9 and he knew Deaton’s hours started then, so he pushed on the front door and it swung open. He took a deep breath and stepped inside. It felt different than the other times he’d been here, knowing Deaton’s ties to the supernatural world. 

          “Mr. Stilinski. I wasn’t expecting you,” the vet said in a tone that indicated that he should have been expecting Stiles. 

           “Mr. Deaton? Wait, Dr. Deaton? Shit I don’t think I know what I’m supposed to call you now.” 

           The barest trace of a smile crossed the man’s lips. “Let’s just go with Alan. I’m guessing this has something to do with the pack, since you don’t have a pet with you. Come on back.” He opened the gate and let Stiles through. 

           Stiles followed Deaton into the staff area, he’d been back there before, with Scott when he was taking care of the animals in the evening. But he looked at it again, wondering if the seemingly innocuous decorations were related to the supernatural, and wondering how much magic a Druid even had. More than a witch? Less? Deaton led him to a cage which he opened, and handed Stiles a kitten before pulling out the other two and motioning for Stiles to follow him. 

           “This is actually fortuitous timing, since it’s time for me to feed these little guys again.” He set the two kittens on a table and picked up three of the tiny bottles before handing one to Stiles. “So how can I help you?” 

            “Well, I wanted to see, Derek said you might be able to teach me the trick with the mountain ash you used and maybe get me started on a little magic?” 

             Deaton stilled and looked over at Stiles. “I see. Are you thinking about pursuing the emissary role then?” 

             “Not now, not really. Derek made it sound like it was something that took a lot of training, plus, he told me that there’s like a lot of diplomacy and like meeting packs involved and I’m not sure that, well I’d probably be a disaster.” 

             Deaton smiled again, the tiny kittens suckling enthusiastically at their tiny bottles. “That’s actually more perceptive than I expected you to be. Emissary training takes 7 years in my family. My sister Marin is 28, and is just settling in with her first pack. So if not an emissary what are you thinking?” 

           Stiles shrugged, “I don’t even know what the options are, really. I just promised my dad I’d figure out ways to stay safer in all the werewolf business, and I can’t start training in supernatural self defense with Argent until my leg is better, so I thought I’d see if there was anything you could teach me.” 

          Deaton nodded. “Do you have reason to think you may have some talent for magic?” 

           Stiles shrugged, “I’m not even sure how I’d know. I’m pretty sure it’s not like Harry Potter or anything.” 

           “No, it is definitely not like Harry Potter.” Deaton pursed his lips and looked down at the kittens who were almost finished with their bottles. As they finished up he set the bottles back on the counter and motioned for Stiles to follow him with his tiny kitten and took them back to their cage. After he’d gotten them settled inside, he turned back to Stiles. “Alright, come with me.” He led Stiles back to the storeroom and pulled a locked box off the shelf. He carried it over to the table and pulled out his keys and unlocked it. He removed a small bag and a piece of what looked like deer hide that was rolled up. He unrolled it, revealing a complex set of designs inked into the hide, and handed the bag to Stiles who just looked at him.

            “Go ahead and open it up.” 

            Stiles did, peering inside. “Wait, are those bones?” 

            “Among other things. Osteomancy is one of the oldest methods of divination we know of. It is one of the most universal as well. The lines here on the hide create what is known as the firmamental map. Most osteomancy depends on the skill of the user. As a beginner with no real understanding of magic, the bones would reveal almost nothing for you. This set, however, is not designed to depend on the knowledge of the user, but rather just on his or her native power. They’re a good judge of whether you have a gift for magic worth pursuing.” 

             “So this is a test?” 

            “One of several, yes.” 

            “And I just, what? Fling the bones on the map?” 

            “No. Pour them into your hand,” Deaton said patiently, and Stiles did so.

            Looking at the small pile, he could see there were more objects than just the bones. There were a couple of coins, a few small stones, and even a shell or two. He looked back up at Deaton. 

            “Close the bones in your hands. Close your eyes. Then decide what question you want answered. Think about the question as you let the bones shift in your hands. Concentrate on the bones, try and push your intent into them. Each of the bones has an alignment. Try to decipher their poles. When you think they’ve absorbed your question let them fall on the firmament while keeping your eyes closed.” 

             Stiles did as he was told, first trying to decide what question he wanted answered, and deciding that figuring out what was going on with Jackson would be best, since he’d be able to compare it to whatever the Hales finally told him. So he concentrated on Jackson, on the mystery of him, and tumbled the stones and bones across his fingers. Finally there was a strange flash of certainty that they were ready and he opened his fingers and let them tumble down.

             He opened his eyes and looked down then glanced at Deaton. The coins had both fallen outside the map of the firmament, along with some of the bones and stones. Deaton looked down at the pattern. And after a moment he said. “Interesting.” 

             “What does it say?” Stiles asked.

             “Something lost will be found. Maybe something that was hidden. This stone though, that’s Apache tears, and it’s in the house of the future. Grief is coming. The petrified wood is interesting, that indicates some connection to family. I’m guessing that relates to the pack in this case. The moonstone isn’t ruling over everything so I’m guessing the question wasn’t about the pack directly. Where you see it here it can indicate hidden truths, and since it’s in the house of the present I expect whatever is going to come out will be revealed soon. I’m worried to see the bones that fell inside though. Vengeance sits high in the future. Death sits down here, not certain but possible. Whatever this is warning about can probably still be avoided. My guess is that the cast is trying to answer two questions, so either your concentration was poor, or your question was vague and subject to various interpretations.” 

           “So no ‘the winning powerball numbers are 8-12-15-50 and 34?’” 

           Deaton looked up. “This would be a terrible mechanism if you wanted lottery numbers. Water divination, though often a liar, is best for that.” 

           “So I have some talent?” 

           “It would appear you do,” Deaton said as he swept the bones back into their bag and locked them back up.

         “Awesome!” Stiles replied. “Wait, so I have a question.” 

        “I would be surprised if you only had one.” 

        “I mean, about the bones. Why would anyone use a set that aren’t like these? Like, what’s the advantage of a set that depends on the knowledge and power of the user? Because there’s got to be one.” 

       “That’s actually an excellent question. What would you think the answer is?” 

       “Maybe it’s about accuracy, or the type of questions you can answer?” Stiles replied.

       “You’re close. These bones aren’t subtle. They’re impersonal. You notice that they seemed to be trying to answer two questions. Well, a set that depended on your knowledge and will and power would have answered in a way to let you know the question you asked was badly phrased. Perhaps it would have all fallen around the firmament depending on how you’d interpret that. Both the meanings and even the lay of the firmament become personalized.” 

       “So that’s what magic is? Knowledge, will, and power?” 

       “In essence, yes. Though trying to cast with just those three items is unlikely to result in a satisfactory conclusion without years of training, and even then, only for those at the highest end of the power range, which it’s unlikely you are.” 

        “Because I’m some random nobody?” Stiles said, bristling at the implied insult.

        “Because a spark of that power is vanishingly rare.” Deaton replied crisply. 

       “Oh, sorry, that was kind of a dickish response.” Stiles muttered.

        “You’re a teenager, I’d expect nothing less than a belief in your own superiority.” Deaton replied in his annoyingly dismissive manner. “So we know you have power at least, let’s see if we can measure it.”

         Stiles followed him back to his office thinking dark thoughts, but took the seat the Vet indicated. Deaton sat in his own chair after pulling out his keys and unlocking his desk drawer. “I only keep a few tools here for testing. But we’ll set up a time to do a more complete examination now that we know you have a gift worth pursuing.” He pulled out a black bag and slipped out the small crystal sphere.

        “Wait, So crystal balls are a thing? Really?” 

        “Well, this is crystal. Quartz to be precise. And a ball. So yes. In this case, it’s because there are spells, like the one we’re about to try, that work better with a specific shape. No we’re not going to divine the future again, though I will show you a trick you can aspire to that will only work with a sphere.” 

       “Alright, I’m ready. What have you got for me,” Stiles said. Deaton reached across the desk and dropped the sphere in Stiles hand. Stiles let his hand close around it. 

        “Good. Hold it nice and firm,” Deaton said. “Now close your eyes again, and visualize light. Not fire, I’d prefer you not set my building on fire, just the light. I want you visualize the light in the crystal. Keep going until you feel like you’ve got the light built in your head and open your eyes when it feels right.” 

        Stiles tried to do as he was asked, it didn’t seem any harder than the first task, and he could visualize the light just fine, but he couldn’t get it to take alight in Deaton’s sphere. After several minutes of this, and Stiles getting more and more frustrated, Deaton finally said. “Okay, open your eyes.” 

       Stiles did, and the sphere sat clenched in his hand, no light shining forth. A stab of disappointment ran through him. “What did I do wrong?” he asked. 

       “Nothing,” Deaton said. “This wasn’t a task you could ever succeed at. This isn’t a toy, it’s a tool. No matter how much power you may have, without learning how to use it, it is just a chunk of stone. If you learn nothing else from me, please learn that magic isn’t easy. This isn’t, as we already pointed out, Harry Potter. The failure here is that you lack the knowledge and practice to make it work.” 

       “So you were just having fun at my expense?” Stiles asked. 

       “No,” Deaton said looking intently at him. “I’m trying to drive home the importance of learning how to use the spark instead of settling for easy toys like the one in the other room. They have a use, if limited. But they’ll hinder more than help you if you use them instead of learning how to do it yourself.” 

        Stiles got the point. “Got it. Just because the short cut exists doesn’t mean it’s the best option.” 

        “Exactly. I’ve taught a few students over the years. And you’ll have a significant advantage over all of them. Your connection to the pack will make your spark stronger than it would be naturally. But it will also distract you from the rigorous attention needed to develop your gifts fully.” 

        Stiles nodded. “Is it because they’re supernatural creatures?” 

         Deaton sat back in his chair a bit. “That’s a question that’s been debated for a thousand years. We know it happens, but the why of it, well, even sorcerers can’t answer that question.” 

        “What’s a sorcerer? Are they like the alphas of the magical world?”

        “That’s not a bad description. There are two kinds of sorcerers.” Deaton replied. “What’s called a natural sorcerer, and what’s called a bound sorcerer. A bound sorcerer is a spark, usually a fairly middle of the road sort, who makes a pact with a greater power. Some call all such powers ‘demons’, though there’s a wide array of creatures that will make such a pact, and an equally wide array of expectations. The bargain is never in the sparks favor. A natural sorcerer is something else. It’s what it sounds like. A mortal magic user whose inborn power is in highly powerful. We only see one or two born in a century.”

        “What would happen if a natural sorcerer made a pact?” Stiles asked. 

       “What would be the point?” Deaton replied. “If you can already bend space and time there’s no point in making a bargain so you can bend space and time.” 

        “Okay, yeah, good point.” 

        “It’s not a terrible question, it just reveals your lack of information. That’s not a negative in this case. This is your first exposure to magic. This is the equivalent of day one of kindergarten.” 

         “Can you teach me the right way to light the Quartz?” Stiles asked. 

         A quick ghost of a smile flickered across Deaton’s lips. “We’ll get there, there’s a lot of foundational work to do first. But hold the sphere out here.” 

        Deaton reaches out a hand, meeting Stiles’ in the middle. He whispered something softly, his hand gripped over both Stiles’ and the sphere. Stiles felt a slight rush and knew when the sphere caught alight. Deaton dropped his hand away. The light dimmed for a moment before it flickered slightly brighter.

        “That spell uses ambient power to maintain the light. That flicker was when I withdrew my own power.” 

        “So this is like me and everything around me that is in its scope?” Stiles replied.

        “That would be the case, except that this is a warded room. There is no native ambient power in here. That’s all you.” 

        “So I’m worth teaching?”

        Deaton smiled for real this time. “Anyone who wants to learn is worth teaching. It’s just that most can’t learn much more than to make a light or lay a line of mountain ash. But yes, it’s worth your time to learn.” 

        “So you expect great things of me?” Stiles added with a grin. 

        “Well, I think we can expect great things from you. But remember, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things too. Terrible, but great.” 

       Stiles mouth dropped open. “Wait, did you-“ shock struck him momentarily speechless. “Oh my god. You totally did.” 

       “I don’t live under a rock Stiles. I’ve read Harry Potter, and I’m capable of making a joke.” 

       “Right, but you were doing the whole ‘this is serious, don’t be a dark wizard’ routine, and then you pull that out? C’mon!” 

       “Humor is most effective when utilized sparingly.” 

       “So that’s a yes on magic lessons then?” Stiles replied. 

       “Yes Stiles. I’ll teach you the basics of magic. Come back on Monday and I’ll track down a primer for you. And possibly an overview on the supernatural world. I think I still have one.” 

       “Awesome! Thanks Dr. Deaton. Alan.” Stiles said, standing up and heading back toward the door. “I’ll be here after school on Monday!” 

  
  


945am

      After Stiles left, Deaton waved him out the door and went to mutter a quick dismissal spell on the abandoned sphere. He’d learned long past that it was important to not leave even so innocuous a spell as that one active. Instead he paused as he picked up the sphere, and changed his mind and set it back down for a moment. 

      From the bottom drawer he pulled out a different bag and a rolled chart not terribly dissimilar to the firmament chart Stiles had used earlier. He opened the bag and dozens of tiny bones and miscellaneous objects rolled out onto his hand. He placed the sphere in the top zone of the firmamental map, and rolled the bones around in his hand. Once he felt like he had a firm grip on his question he sank his will into the bones and let them fall. As they fell, he felt his power shape the response. When the pattern was complete he opened his eyes.

       “Oh,” he said simply. “Well that’s quite unexpected.” The shape of the future was clear. The influences very near and very strong. This future might be changed by small degrees, but this revealed challenges to the pack that throwing Laura’s fortune had not. He took out his phone and took several photos. This required studying if it was to be avoided. He paused as he looked at the raven feather that had landed in the querants zone with the still charged sphere of the boy’s power. It was a curious token his power had selected for Stiles. 

       He sat back in his chair to consider how best to avoid the boy’s almost certain death.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally the first part of a two part chapter, but it grew in the writing and by the time I was done, boom, full chapter!   
> On a note, while osteomancy is a genuine system of divination (I make no claims about its accuracy) the system Deaton uses here is not the traditional one. The firmamental map is an idea I actually borrowed from Charles de Lint (though he both describes it and calls it something different) and in this case, includes concepts borrowed from both astrology and tarot.   
> I had planned to get this finished and up earlier this last week, but on Monday night when I went to finish writing the scene, I had a flash of an idea that I opened a new note to write down quickly (which I do often) but it merged with another idea I’d had rattling in the back of my brain, and then soon enough I was 3000 words into (what I thought at the time was) a 15k time travel fixit.  
> And then I shoved it into my share folder with Snowqueenlou and I called it ‘I don’t even know what the fuck this is’ and went to bed. The next day we got together for coffee and talked about it and the more we talked the bigger it grew. While it won’t be as large as this series will, it will be long. So if rocks fall and everyone dies, but Stiles Time travels back and tries to fix things post S6 sounds like your jam, check it out. 
> 
>  
> 
> As always, comments and kudos fuel my writerly heart, and endless thanks to Snowqueenlou for making it better!


	12. Chapter 12

11am 

       Derek heard the Jeep long before it pulled into the driveway. He was lying on the bed in the guest room not quite sleeping, but just being, and trying to get comfortable with the changes in his body. It had been less than a week and he knows that most of the physical changes have already taken place.

         The increased sensitivity to hearing and scent he had expected, since he remembered when Laura had become an alpha, and the things she’d mentioned. She hadn’t mentioned things like the deeper feeling of connection he felt to the pack, but he felt like he was finally getting used to that.

        He had even managed to sleep in the guest room the night before, though he suspected part of that was knowing Scott was there to keep Stiles safe. The protectiveness for his human pack member had really surprised him. He knew Laura was fond of him too, but she didn’t seem as protective of the boy as Derek was. He wondered if it was just that each alpha responded to the changes individually because he had taken a couple of psych classes and understood that sometimes stimuli did affect people in different ways, or if it was something else.

       The physical changes, well, he suspected those were going to take longer. He was stronger, faster, and significantly more dangerous. His temper would flare unexpectedly, he seemed to feel everything more intensely, but Laura had been really pleased with how well he’d handled himself around Satomi’s betas. Afterwards she’d told him that was one of the hardest things when she’d become an alpha, and Derek wondered if maybe it was the post-fire grief or the moving to a new territory that had really been the problem. 

        A few minutes later he heard Stiles bang through the door and start up the stairs, stopping only for a muttered curse that Derek could clearly hear, when he forgot about his leg and took the first two stairs as one. He heard him throw something, probably his backpack, down on his bed and the unnecessarily loud “Derek?” he’d shouted down the hall. 

        Derek pulled himself up casually, and went down the hall to Stiles room, by habit and memory avoiding the two squeaky spots in the hall floor. He slipped into Stiles room as the kid was pulling on a different pair of beaten up Converse.

        “Time for the blue ones?” he asked with a small smile.

         “I always wear the blue ones to go see my mom. She bought me my first pair of Chucks, and the blue was the color we picked out together, because it was the prettiest.”

        Derek’s smile widened a bit, “That's a memorial I can understand.” he replied. “When Laura first got accepted to NYU mom went crazy and ordered everyone T-shirts and sweatshirts and even hats. I was wearing my T-shirt the day before the fire and it was still in the Camaro. It doesn’t fit me anymore but it’s still in my closet. It’s not the only shirt that survived, I had a couple of others in my locker at school and my dads jacket was in his truck. But that’s the one the that holds the memories.” 

        Stiles’ face grows serious, and he replies, “My dad and I don’t talk about my mom much, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk about your family.” 

        “Laura and I talk about them from before, but not, you know, that night. And not about right after.” He shifts his head to the side, as if to escape the memories. “I think I’ve talked to you more about that night than her.” 

       Stiles stood up and moved closer to Derek, putting his hand around his shoulder in a way that was comforting and slightly possessive. Derek had a stray thought as it settled into place that he might be starting to be one of the people Stiles was possessive of, because it was a trait he’d noticed almost immediately. “Do you want to stop for flowers on the way?” Stiles asked. 

       “I don’t usually take flowers. They’re-“ Derek paused, realizing he was about to reveal a secret, then decided Stiles deserved to know. “The crypt is empty. We don’t inter anyone there.” he finally said. 

         “Wait, really?” Stiles said in surprise. “Why?”

         “We have our own rituals, our own ways. We don’t embalm, and we return our bodies to the packlands.” 

        “So your mom, your family is buried in the Preserve?” 

        “No. In the Hale lands away from the Preserve. On the first year after their death we plant a tree over the grave to remember.” He could feel Stiles grip on his shoulder like a brand. “I can-“ he paused, “When we’re young we learn our history by memorizing the different trees.” 

       “Would you rather go to the forest than the graveyard then?” Stiles asked. “We can do both.” 

       Derek nodded. “Let’s do both.” They turned and headed back downstairs. 

 

12pm

      Laura’s phone rang and she glanced down and saw Satomi’s name. She answered it quickly. “Alpha Satomi, it’s an honor.” Her mother had trained her in the strictly formal modes of address that the eldest alphas tended to uphold.

      “Alpha Laura,” Satomi replied, “The honor is mine.” The modes of address had started with in person meetings but had migrated to phone conversations as well. 

      “I’ve had an interesting call,” Satomi said, and followed up with, “Do you know Alpha Tecciztecatl Gonzalez? From Arizona?” 

       Laura thought for a moment, “I don’t believe so. Maybe someone who knew mom?” 

       “Possibly. He has a large pack, probably 40 wolves. But he doesn’t get involved in pack politics much. If he did, he might be a major power, but he’s a strange man, and a stranger alpha.” 

       “Strange like, collects statues of cats, or strange like collects actual dead cats?” Laura asked. 

        “Probably more the former than the later. He’s insular, rarely mingles outside of his pack. He’s old school.” Laura was surprised Satomi describe him that way, given her own adherence to tradition. “You can infer from his chosen name the nature of his politics. And he doesn’t consider humans to be pack.” 

        “Seriously? He’s actually a strict separatist? And why are we talking about him right now anyway?” 

        “He’s coming to Beacon Hills. In fact he’ll be there tomorrow. He contacted Alpha Lugh, who gave him my information and asked if I had a current contact number for you. He said he’d call you in the morning to arrange an in-person meeting. He said he has some personal business in the area, and he isn’t bringing his emissary, only a couple of betas.” 

        “Do you think it’s a territory challenge?” 

        “Unlikely. There’s no advantage to him trying to hold two territories so far apart. I suspect it is exactly as he says, the personal travel of a reclusive alpha. Do you remember how this part goes?” The question at the end wasn’t rhetorical. Talia had started training Laura in the intricacies of inter-pack relations, but they’d both thought they’d have decades for her to learn it all.

        “He’ll call and make a formal request to enter the territory, or his emissary if he keeps one. Traditionally the visiting alpha will present him or herself to the territory alpha when they arrive, but the actual practice on that varies widely now.” 

        “You’ve been studying,” Satomi said, clear approval in her voice. 

        “I borrowed Deaton’s copy of ‘Standards and Practices’  while our visitors were in town last week.” Laura replied. 

         “Good. I’m not sure how much of a stickler he’ll be, especially if it’s for personal reasons, but it’s good to be prepared. You may want to let him know Argent is there. I know his family was active in Arizona, and it would be good to avoid mix-ups.” 

          “That was part of why I wanted to come meet with you. I know he’s not his sister obviously, but how trustworthy is Argent?” 

         Satomi pauses before replying, “He is as trustworthy as any Hunter. Their priorities are not ours, and even the best see us as less than. If it had been anyone else in his family besides his daughter, he’d have gone along with the matriarch’s decision. On his own he’ll hold the code, but pressure from anyone he sees as an authority and he’ll fold.”

        Laura was quiet a moment, the response had matched her personal observation as well. “Am I being stupid to let him stay?” she finally added.

        “No. Not as long as Allison and he continue their negotiation of trying to reconcile their worldviews. I’m glad she’s finding a place with you, she’s an asset. But she needs someone to model herself on, and neither I nor my second are someone she can bond with.” 

        “Thank you Satomi,” Laura said, “for everything. I know it hasn’t been easy for you to have a power vacuum sitting here.” 

        “The crossroads is quiet. The other thing, well, it hasn’t stirred in years, even with the accidental sacrifice. It was hardly a bother, and I owed your mother a great deal.” 

        “Strange, she always said the same thing about you,” Laura added with a small laugh.

        “Call me if you need anything.” Satomi said.

        “I will. And thank you.” 

         Laura looked at the time and guessed that Derek was still with Stiles. She settled on sending him a quick text.

 

Laura 1234pm: No urgency, just call me when you guys get back.

  


6pm

       Rafe waited patiently for his son, knowing he’d probably be late. He wasn’t even sure if Scott was intentionally being late to irritate him, or if he just had trouble with timeliness. If it was Stiles he’d know, but Scott had always seemed the less likely to hold a grudge, though god knows there were plenty of reasons for one. Their first meal after Rafe had returned to town had been tense, with a lot of Rafe asking questions and Scott giving as close to a one word answer as possible. 

       Rafe kept telling himself he didn’t regret Scott, but he’d come along at the point Rafe was realizing that he and Melissa weren’t well suited, and that his secrets would always be a problem for her. 

       He was glad she’d kicked him out before things had escalated. His urges to lash out had terrified him as much as it had incensed her. The first thing he’d done after he left was seek anger management therapy, and it had been a revelation that had improved a great many relationships in his life, but he’d never managed to fix the one with his son. If he were completely honest with himself, and fair to Scott, he hadn’t put much effort into it. 

       Scott finally arrived about fifteen minutes late, and apologetic. “It’s fine,” Rafe answered, “you’re here now.”

       He’d learned from his mistake the first night, and picked a diner rather than the more upscale Italian place he’d selected before. Scott was clearly more comfortable tonight. He had slid in across from Rafe and actually talked, diving in about the game the night before.

       Rafe had never really understood lacrosse, when he’d been growing up football was still king, but he’d learned enough to follow what Scott was saying.         

       “So after the game, coach said I wasn’t first line yet, but that if I keep improving he thinks I might be for senior year.” 

       Scott’s obvious enthusiasm about a high school sport was relaxing after a week of trying to filter through the lies that the sheriff’s department reports were filled with. He’d come close to asking John to just cut the crap, but he was intrigued to see how well the lies hung together. He was concerned that it might be a sign of deeper corruption than just hiding the supernatural elements, but so far no signs of that had emerged. 

       “I was really impressed by how well you did when they put you in. You seemed to be as good as the guys who were first line. Except the one kid, the one with the cannon in the third quarter.” 

       “Oh Jackson.” Scott said, growing quiet. 

       “The Whittemore boy?” 

       “Yeah.” 

       “Are you guys still sworn enemies, or have you gotten over that by playing together?” 

          Scott relaxed at the direction of his question. Interesting. Rafe wondered if there was something else about Jackson that Scott knew was significant. Could Scott actually know the kid was a werewolf? 

         “We’re not friends or anything, but he’s-“ Scott paused briefly and continued, “he’s dating Lydia and she’s friends with Allison so we’ve been hanging out some.” 

         “This is the girl you went on a date with?” Rafe asked. “Allison.” 

         “Yeah,” Scott said, almost glowing. “She’s amazing. She’s a nationally ranked archer, and she is an amazing painter, she says she’s not, but she showed me a few and she’s really good.” 

          “She’s the dark haired one that was sitting by John and Stiles last night?” 

          Rafe was pretty sure she was the other wolf he’d noticed, but wanted to make sure.

          “Yeah, well, Laura was there too, but she’s older of course.” Scott’s monosyllabic responses were clearly a thing of the past now. 

         “I don’t think I noticed her. Who’s Laura?” 

         “Oh Laura Hale. You know, the family who-“ Scott paused, probably unsure how to say ‘the family who all died in a fire that was assumed to be an accident until their killer came back to finish the job’. 

         “Oh that Laura. Yes, her I did see. I wasn’t aware that you knew her.” 

       “Well Stiles knows her now, and Derek, after you know, everything.” 

       “Ah yes,” Rafe replied, “I can guess that would bring people together.” 

        “She’s nice,” Scott added. “Should I be talking about her since you’re, you know, investigating things?” 

        “I’m not investigating things Scott. I’m trying to make sure the sheriff's department didn’t miss anything, and to see if it ties into some other crimes that we have been investigating.” 

        “Oh okay. I didn’t know.” 

       “I’m surprised Stiles didn’t tell you everything. I can’t imagine he’s any less underfoot at the sheriff’s department than he was when his dad was only a deputy.” 

        “Well, he can drive now. So now he can be underfoot in a lot more places.” 

        “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.” Rafe knew a change of subject would be smart, since Stiles was a guaranteed source of tension. “Have you started thinking about college yet?” 

         “Yeah, Stiles is helping me try to figure out a way to get into Vet school, which is really competitive.” 

       “When you know where you're going make sure you let me know, there’s some money set aside for that from my dad.” 

        Scott stilled. Rafe’s family had played a huge part in the failure of his marriage, though they’d refused to ever meet Melissa. In retrospect, it was their disapproval of the relationship had created the initial strain which was the bedrock for the rest of their marital problems. 

         “Your dad.” Scott replied flatly. “You mean the guy who’s had no interest in me my whole life? That guy?” 

        “He’s a complicated person,” Rafe answered. “And there’s a lot about him you don’t know.” 

        Scott grew stiff and Rafe saw him take a deep breath and shift his hands under the table.

        “I have my disagreements with him, but I can at least understand where he’s coming from-“ Rafe continued on, until Scott pushed himself out of his side of the table. 

        “I can’t listen to this,” Scott said as he got up. “That guy has ignored me my entire life. He told my mom she would never be part of his family. Why the hell would I want his help now?” After he finished, he turned and left. 

         Rafe stayed seated at the table, his mind in turmoil, because just for a moment he’d seen a flicker of the amber glow of a beta werewolf in his son’s eyes. After a few moments he pulled out a twenty and left it behind on the table and left. When he got into his car he took a deep breath, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number from his speed dial. 

         When a voice on the other end answered, he said, “Is he there? We have a problem here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nailing that last few paragraphs took me a weirdly long time. Which is always frustrating. Like I knew in a sense how it needed to go, but getting there took some work.  
> Obviously the shape of the board is changing in this chapter. But just wait. Because the next big shakeup is huge:-)  
> As always, your kudos and comments give me life, and let me know how you feel about Laura so far. I’m curious how she’s landing for you.


	13. Chapter 13

430pm

       “Gross,” Stiles said as he pulled a wad of leaves out of the section of gutter he was working on and Derek snorted. 

        “Just wait until you find a dead squirrel or a mouse.” Derek replied.

        “Oh my god, just no!” Stiles grumbled back, “why would you ever say that?” 

        “I’m just trying to prepare you for the potential dangers Stiles,” Derek said with a smirk.

        “I’m telling your sister that you’re trying to traumatize me.” 

        “Are you kidding? If we found a squirrel in the gutters at home there was at least a fifty percent chance she’d put it there,” Derek replied, while fearlessly walking across the roof to access the second story gutters.

         “Oh my god, that’s so evil,” and then after a moment, “I think she’s my favorite now.” 

         “Who was your favorite before?” 

         “Scott of course.” 

         “I’ll let him know he’s been replaced for dead squirrels and sarcasm.” 

         “He knows me, he’ll understand,” Stiles replied laughing. 

         “There’s an awful lot of talking out here,” John said as he came out the door, and Derek rolled his eyes a bit. 

        “Is there ever not a lot of talking when Stiles is involved?” he replied. 

        “Not even while he’s sleeping,” John said with a fond sigh. 

         Derek finished scooping the leaves out of the upper gutters. The large oaks around the Stilinski house were mostly done dropping their leaves over winter, so there wouldn’t be many left to drop as spring approached. He picked up the broom he’d brought up with him and swept the last of the leaves off the edges, where they’d be easy to rake up on the ground. He glanced back where Stiles was clearly being more careful as he cleaned out the gutters on the first level now, with Derek’s warning in mind, though Derek didn’t smell any animals decomposing. 

         “This seems to be going much faster than when Stiles does it by himself,” John added looking up. “He usually makes it an all day job.” 

          “Obviously I’m usually terrified of falling off the roof,” Stiles complained.  

          “I’m usually terrified of that same thing,” John replied with a quick laugh.

          “I hate you all.” 

           “Why am I included in that?” Derek protested. 

          “You laughed,” Stiles replied. “My friendship can be earned back with curly fries.” 

         “Wait, I do all the hard work and then I have to buy dinner? There’s something wrong with this system,” Derek replied with a derisive snort.

         “I’ve already ordered pizza so hurry up and get this finished up,” John replied. 

        “Old Town Pizza?” Derek said. 

        “There are no other options in this house.”

        “That’s the motivation I’ve been waiting for.” Stiles said as he dug back into the first story gutters and Derek got down on his knees further down the roof to help.

  
  


630pm

 

     The hum of the tv was pissing Jackson off. Everything was pissing him off, but Laura had told him to expect that. He tried to both murmur her little mantra and watch the game tape of Cleveland’s game against Jesuit from the week before. He’d watched the tapes of both of Cleveland’s games already, as well as the practice that he’d sent Greenberg to go and tape the week before. The kid was so unmemorable he was basically invisible, and since he was a crap lacrosse player Jackson had put him to good use for the abilities he did have. 

       He picked up the remote and clicked the tv off. The hum lessened but didn’t die out altogether, just as Laura had said. Give it two weeks, she’d said, and his senses would settle. But it was ruining his life now. He’d had to listen to his parents fuck the night before, and that was disturbing. Especially since he’d caught the lie when his mom whispered “you’re the best” to his dad. 

        Besides some control, the only thing Laura had actually taught him so far was how to interpret the enormous inundation of new sounds, and he had accidentally used it to find out his mom was sexually underwhelmed. It was sort of bitterly funny. Though he tried hard to not think about what else Laura had told him that morning, because he wasn’t ready for that, he wasn’t ready to think about what it meant.

       He turned the softly playing music on his phone up a notch to cover the sounds of the electricity in the wires and waited for it to go back to normal. He tried to concentrate on the music but all he could hear were the other sounds. A dog barking a few blocks away was particularly jarring, but then he heard the car pull into his driveway and then the doors open and voices laughing. Danny. That was Danny. Jackson relaxed, not even realizing how tense he’d gotten. He couldn’t place the other voice, familiar, but no one that mattered. 

        Danny knocked and Jackson flung himself out of the chair to open the door. “Danny,” he said, like it was a surprise, then glanced at the other kid, “and Mark, right?” 

        “Matt,” the guy responded with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. There was something about the guy that bothered Jackson in a new way, something that he’d never noticed before. An itch under the skin that was vaguely unpleasant. He wondered if it was part of the freaky werewolf shit. He’d need to ask Laura. 

       “Right. Matt. Whatever. Yearbook or something.” 

        “Or something.” 

        Danny rolled his eyes, “Hey, I left a camera lens over here the other day, I think,” he said, “and I was going to loan it to Matt.” 

        “It’s on my desk,” Jackson said. “I figured you’d grab it when you came to watch the game tapes.” 

         “Mind if I run up?” 

         “Go for it,” Jackson replied. Danny was one of two people he trusted in his room. “How’s the lacrosse spread in the yearbook going Matt?” he asked, as Danny bounded up the stairs.

         “Great I’m sure,” Matt said, that slithery sandpaper feeling coming back as he talked. 

         Jackson nodded, not paying much attention, a new sound having caught his attention. He turned his head slightly, ignoring Matt’s follow up comment as he tried to catch the sound again. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Then he heard it again and he recognized it. Flesh hitting flesh. And then he caught voices, but Matt’s voice drowned out the words. 

       “Shut up for a minute,” Jackson growled and Matt stopped talking and turned his head the direction Jackson was looking toward the front of his house. 

         Trying to get his new senses to focus was infuriating, and the sounds of Danny coming back down the stairs was distracting, but after a moment he was able to catch the voices again. 

       “- embarrassment of a son!” The first voice was low pitched and angry, and he recognized the Leahy asshole from across the street. 

       “Don’t dad!” And Jackson was startled to hear the terror in Isaac’s voice. He felt something in his senses shift and heard a gasp escape from Matt. When he looked at him the other guy had gone pale and stepped back away from him. 

        “Jackson?” Danny said from behind him. 

       Jackson turned toward Danny who’d reached the foot of the stairs. Jackson felt a fury building in his body, and strength flood out from his core. He glanced down at his hands, and saw claws emerging, and looked back up to see the spark of recognition in Danny’s face.

        “Jackson,” Danny said, moving cautiously towards him, “Don’t-“ 

        Another sound of flesh hitting flesh across the street and Jackson lost the last shred of his control and roared before jumping back out through the window, glass shattering outwards.  Words had receded from his consciousness and his reactions were primal and euphoric. Behind him he heard Danny talking and Matt shouting and freaking out, but his attention was on Isaac, his packmate, no his teammate, but that was like pack. And he was in trouble. Jackson easily leapt the hedge in front of his house, landed on the street, and didn’t pause before he leapt into motion again towards the Leahy house. 

       He burst through the door to the Leahy house, and saw Isaac cowering on the floor, his dad’s fist poised to strike. Jackson let out a growl, and he felt a deep satisfaction in watching Leahy flail backward shouting something. He didn’t bother trying to understand the words as he roared and leapt at the man with his claws out. A moment later the man was on the floor and Jackson was kneeling over him preparing to-

       “Jackson!” he heard Danny shout as he burst through the door, and his voice made Jackson pause and look down at his claws and draw back. He looked at the terror on Mr Leahy’s face, and then saw the look on Isaac’s face and retreated more. He heard Danny say something, but his rage had been replaced by revulsion and he tore back through the door and raced across the street past his back yard and into the vastness of the Preserve.

  
  


     Lydia glanced away from the book she was deeply engrossed by and saw it was Danny calling. She hesitated before answering it, but Danny was a text-or-die person. If he was calling it really was important. “Danny?” she said into the phone as she picked it up. 

        “Lydia. Thank god,” Danny said, his voice tense. “Are you-“ He paused, “Do you know what Jackson is?” 

       Lydia sat up. “What happened?” 

       “You know,” he said, relieved. 

       “Obviously,” Lydia replied. “Is Jackson okay?” 

        “Lydia, he attacked Isaac Leahy’s dad out of nowhere. Then vanished into the Preserve,” Danny said urgently. “Now Leahy is freaking out, and Matt wants to call the cops, which no one else seems to want. What do we do?” 

       “Tell Matt under no circumstances is he to call the cops or I’ll make his life hell,” she replied.  “And I’ll be there in five minutes.” She hung up and started to call Allison, but paused, Lydia knew Allison was out with her dad, so she scrolled through her phone and dialed Stilinski instead. 

      She grabbed her purse and shoved Sebastian’s book into her bedside table and the phone started to ring through as she started down her stairs. 

      “Lydia?” Stiles answered, surprise noticeable even through her phone. 

      “Stiles, there’s a situation. Jackson lost control and attacked someone,” she said. “Can you get the Hales over to Isaac Leahy’s house? It’s across the street from Jackson’s.” 

      “Yeah, ok. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. Derek’s with me.” 

       She hung up without replying, and jumped in her car and tore off down the street towards the turn to Jackson’s. A handful of minutes later she pulled up outside the Leahy house.

        She didn’t bother to knock and flung open the door to stroll inside. Leahy was up in Danny’s face, and Danny was not backing down. 

       “Enough!” Lydia said, all pretense of vapidity gone. She glared at Leahy who had turned when she’d shouted. 

        “Who the fuck are you?” he said with a recognizable note of disdain. 

        Oh joy, she thought, a misogynist. “I’m the one they call when things go wrong,” she said with a quiet confidence she didn’t really feel. 

         He looked her up and down, “What do you know about that thing?” 

          “He’s not a thing,” she replied fiercely. “And I’m very curious as to what you did to piss him off, because the only thing I’m certain of is that he was reacting to you.” 

         “What I do in my own house is my business!” the man shouted. 

         Her eyes narrowed and she glanced over to where the guy she recognized from Jackson’s lacrosse team still sat against the wall, his curly hair more disarrayed than usual, and the vivid red imprint of a hand on his face. 

         She heard the door open behind her and she turned to see Derek come in, followed by Stiles. Derek’s face looked closed off and angry in a way she hadn’t seen before. He has great resting murder face, she thought. 

         “What happened?” Derek asked, and the quiet confidence he exuded was almost palpable. 

         “I was having a conversation with my son about his homework,” Leahy said, “and some monster burst in and nearly killed me!” 

         Derek glanced over at Isaac, and Lydia could see that he didn’t miss the mark on his face. “It looks like things got a little heated.”

          “Who the fuck are you?” Leahy replied. “I don’t need anyone telling me how I should discipline my son.” 

           “Really?” Stiles said from behind him. “Because I’ll be honest, I’m pretty sure my dad, the sheriff, might have some questions about that palm print on Isaac’s face.” 

          Leahy glanced at Isaac and then back at Danny, who said, “Are you sure you still want to call the cops? Because Stiles is right, no doubt the sheriff would have some questions about what you consider discipline.” 

          The man suddenly looked nervous and behind her Lydia could almost feel Derek tense up. The behavioral cues all lined up and she looked at Leahy again. “But it doesn’t stop there, does it?” she said, and the words elicited reactions from almost everyone except Matt. “It hasn’t stopped at the occasional slap in a long time.” She glanced over at Isaac whose face had gone even more pale, and the haunted look in his eyes was even worse. 

         “Danny, perhaps you and Matt can take Isaac out to my car. I think the rest of us are going to have a longer chat about appropriate parenting.” 

           “That boy isn’t going anywhere!” Leahy yelled. 

          “Oh, I think if nothing else I can guarantee that he’s not spending another night here,” Lydia said with far more confidence than she felt. “Isaac, go with Danny.” Then she turned back to Leahy, feeling Derek come up beside her, and really, the confidence that she gained from having a werewolf as back up was a little disappointing and yet, remarkable. 

           “You can’t just take my son!” Leahy shouted. “You have no right.” 

           “How often do you beat him?” Derek said, and Lydia could hear the quiet fury of his voice. 

          “He needs discipline,” the old man snarled. 

         “Perhaps we should invite our friend to come back and educate you on the difference between abuse and discipline,” Lydia replied. “And you didn’t answer the question, how often do you beat your son?” 

        “He’s  _ disciplined _ ,” Leahy replied in anger, “maybe once a week or so.” 

        “Lie.” Derek said with a growl. “Try again.” 

        “As often as he needs it!” Leahy snapped back. 

        Stiles moved past her on her left, and walked into the kitchen. She heard him say, “I know this place,” as she watched Derek step closer to Leahy. 

         “Twice a week? Daily?” Derek said. “At least I wear my monster honestly.” He slowly shifted into his wolf-man form, “You hide yours on the inside.” 

         Leahy whimpered as he pressed himself backwards into the wall, his previous anger buried completely in the face of Derek’s transformation.  Behind her she heard Stiles open a door in the kitchen and make a small sound, and then heard his footsteps going down a set of stairs.

         “You stay out of there!” Leahy said when he caught sight of Stiles heading down the stairs, his terror of Derek clearly forgotten.

          “Is there something you don’t want us to see in your basement?” Derek said, his words slurring slightly around his fangs. “Let’s take a look.” And he grabbed Leahy and forced him towards the kitchen and the stairway to the basement. Lydia followed, nervous about what they’d find. 

        The basement, when they got to the bottom, was a little dirty but seemed perfectly normal, but Stiles was glancing around with a terrified look on his face. After a moment he stepped forward and lifted the top of the chest freezer, and then gasped. She glanced over, but the freezer was empty, and the inside was a little beat up. And then she looked closer at the marks that were largely grouped around the top edge and realized that they were nail marks and the slight stains were likely blood. 

       “Stiles.” Lydia said, cold fury seeping into her heart, “I think it’s time to call your father.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooph.   
> Okay. I’m learning a lesson here, trying to juggle back and forth between two ongoing long works is a recipe for frustration and slow writing. I’m going to either pick this story or Nemeton’s Shade and write to the end of the current story arc then flip to the other one. If I’d just have done that, I’d already be done with at least one of them. But here’s chapter 13, and boy does it tip my hand on where I’m taking things:-)   
> I’ve been meaning to get back to Lydia’s storyline for awhile, though it’s barely been a week since we’ve been in her head. But I’ll get more of her own story in here again soon.   
> As always comments and kudos keep me going, and thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

Sunday January 22, 2011

945am

      Stiles rolled out of bed with a groan and looked to Derek’s corner out of habit, unsurprisingly it was once again full of wolf. Derek and the rest of the pack had been out late the night before searching for Jackson, while Stiles and Lydia had been busy with the police. Stiles hoped that the ease of his statement was an indicator for how his meeting with McCall was going to go, but he doubted it. 

       “Hey Cuddlewolf, I’m going to head down and start breakfast, want to come or do you want to sleep some more?” Stiles said to Derek, who yawned widely at him before laying his head back down and going back to sleep. Stiles crept out of his room, his leg stiff but not as sore as he expected after yesterday’s activities, which was a good sign. He was able to take the stairs more easily already which was awesome, he was ready to get back to normal, though he knew running was still a long way off. 

        He glanced at the couch where Jackson was still sleeping as he went past, and pulled out an 18 pack of eggs and a bag of potatoes to start breakfast. He knew Isaac had stayed at Scott and Melissa’s the night before but that they’d be over soon enough. Once the potatoes were sliced and started cooking he beat the scrambled eggs together and started them in another pan, then pulled the package of bacon out of the refrigerator. After the day before, his dad definitely deserved bacon. 

        He was lost in thought as he kept the potatoes and eggs from sticking to the pan, thinking about how to ask Deaton about his dream, and what it meant. He’d never been in the Leahy house before, so there was no logical reason he’d recognized it so clearly. But a sound behind him brought his attention back and made him turn and look. 

         “You can cook, Stilinksi?” Jackson said in his usual tone of disdain. Honestly it was the most normal thing about the last couple of weeks. 

        “Don’t worry Fido, I’ve got a couple cans of Alpo just for you,” Stiles replied easily, then added, “I’m guessing you’re not vegan or anything?” 

         “Well I’ve always said you need a muzzle, and no.” Jackson said and rolled his eyes, leaning against the back counter. After a moment he asked, “How fucked am I?” 

         “I think it’s going to be alright. Dad and Mr Argent kind of strong-armed Leahy into going with their version of things and they’ll not press charges on the abuse as long as he gives up custody of Isaac.” 

         “And Isaac? Is he going to be weird at school?” 

         “Scott’s working on that,” Stiles pulled out a platter to put the eggs on and started sliding them onto it. 

         “So I’m doomed,” Jackson said.

       “Absolutely fucked,” Stiles deadpanned. “Cause I’d totally have left that to Scott if I didn’t think he was the better option for not freaking Isaac out even more.” 

        “Stiles it’s great that you have faith in your idiot sidekick’s abilities, but I’d really rather everyone not find out I’m some B-movie horror freak.” 

      “Wait, you think Scott is my sidekick?” Stiles replied. “That’s awesome! Cause seriously, I’ve been worried that the whole tooth and claw- Wait teeth and claws? Whatever. The werewolf thing, that it meant I was the sidekick here.” 

       “You’re an idiot Stilinski, but you’re not stupid,” Jackson glared. “You’d know how to work Isaac where we want him.” 

       “Yes Whittemore, which is why Scott is doing this. If you’ve missed the fact that I’m sort of an asshole. And you know who else is an asshole? Besides you obviously, is Isaac’s father. So how well do you think he’s going to respond to me?” Stiles set the pan back on the stove and started flipping bacon strips into it. “Scott’s the better choice for this. You can always wolf out and terrorize him into silence if asking nicely doesn’t work, but at least try this first.” 

       Jackson was silent for a few minutes as the bacon started to sizzle. “It better work. If some asshole hunter tracks me down because Scott couldn’t do his job, I’ll make sure I survive just so I can kill you both.” 

       “Yeah and if you’d just managed to not wolf out the first chance you got, then we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Stiles said heatedly. 

       “I’m sorry that I fucking ‘wolfed out’ as you call it, when I hear my team mate getting the shit beaten out of him!” The slight hint of gold started to creep into Jackson’s eyes.

       “Is that why you reacted?” Stiles said, going still in surprise. “That’s actually kind of respectable Jax. Like inside that you-shaped mass of disdain and assholery, are you actually a decent human being?” 

        “Yes Stiles, the unwillingness to listen to someone being abused apparently makes me a human being, unlike your borderline sociopathic ass.” 

        “Jax, I gotta say, this is a whole new side of you I never imagined,” Stiles said with a smile as he turned back to the bacon. “Seriously dude, I might be in love.”  

        “God you’re such a little fucker, Stilinski,” Jackson said leaning back into the counter. 

        “I’m just fucking with you Jax. Laura says it’s helpful to stress test just to the line of you losing control to help to help you develop and strengthen your anchor.” Stiles said with a tilt to his head as he lifted one of the finished pieces of bacon out of the pan and held it towards Jackson, “Bacon?”

        “Wait, you were just being an asshole to try and test my control?” Jackson said as he took the still hot bacon and hissed a bit.

       “No, you know me, I legitimately am an asshole.  So I’m just playing to my strengths,” Stiles said with a grin.

       “I don’t get you, Stilinski. Why do you act like you care if I have control?” 

      Stiles finished adding the bacon to the platter and as he started cooking the second package he finally answered, “Okay, real talk, you’re an asshole, you have been to not just me for years, and I get why. Not so much your thing against Scott because the dude is legitimately a Disney Princess. But now you’re part of Laura’s pack. Part of Derek’s pack. Scott. Allison. These people all matter to me. So if helping you out is how I can be the best for them, so be it. If it’s killing you and dumping your body in Mexico, well that I’ll do fucking gladly.” 

       Jackson looked at him strangely for a moment, then said, “How is it that you’ve finally figured out how to be on a team by being in a werewolf pack?” 

      Stiles turned to him, astonished, “Excuse me fuckhead? I am amazing at teams! I’ve been on the baseball team, cross country, and the fucking track team for years until Scott decided he wanted to join your stupid lacrosse team.” 

       “None of those are real team sports Stiles, not really. Both you and McCall act like it’s you versus the rest of the team versus the other team. That’s not how it works.” 

      “Well god Jackson, I can’t imagine how that started since the only people you think it’s acceptable to have take a shot are you and Ridgeway.” 

       “Aaron is almost as good as me, he can place a shot within an inch of where he means to,” Jackson snapped, “While you think it’s a banner day if it’s within a foot of the net!” 

       “Yeah, and when has our godlike Captain ever bothered to teach anyone how to shoot accurately rather than just berate them for sucking and hurl a ball at their head!” Stiles hissed back. 

       “You know-“ Jackson started to reply as Derek’s voice cut in.

       “Listening to this from upstairs I was pretty sure Jackson was moments away from sinking his claws into you,” Derek said grabbing a glass, “but once I got down here and could catch a scent besides bacon I realized you’re both completely calm.” 

        “Jackson is just being his usual insufferable self and I’m a constant delight,” Stiles said with a shrug, handing Derek a piece of the cooling bacon.

        “Stilinski could drive the pope to drink.” 

        “That’s a bad one Jax, have you seen pope lizard-face, dude is definitely fond of the booze.” 

        “Whatever Stilinski. You’re annoying. Also stop calling me Jax or I’ll punch you in the face.” 

        “And you’re obnoxious and overbearing. And yet, here we are stuck with each other.” Stiles flipped the bacon. 

        “I don’t think I understand this conversation,” Derek said, stealing a piece of bacon from the platter. 

         John walked in the kitchen and glanced around, grinning when he sees the pile of bacon on the platter. He walked over to steal a piece himself when Stiles blocked his hand. “Two pieces. For every extra one you have to run a mile with me once I’m back in running shape.” 

       “I think you forget which one of us is the parent.” John said with a sigh, picking up a piece of bacon. 

        “I think you forget which one of us has arteries clogged with cholesterol from too many dinners at Tom’s.” 

         John glanced sidewise at Derek, a look that Stiles catches. 

       “Wait.” Stiles said demandingly. “Are you-“ and he pointed the spatula at Derek, “a co-conspirator? Have you been sneaking him fried food?” 

        Derek gave a brief guilty look before his face returned to its stoic neutral look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

        “Betrayed! I’m betrayed by my own pack!” Stiles moaned. “How is Jackson my favorite this morning? This is the worst possible timeline.” 

         “Leave me out of your insanity Stilinski.” Jackson replied, grabbing another piece of bacon off the platter. 

         The front door opened and Scott barreled in followed by Isaac, Scott greeting everyone in his usual excited voice, while Isaac hugged the wall next to the door. Stiles pulled the fried potatoes off the burner, loaded the last of the bacon onto a platter and turned to the cupboard and pulled out plates. “Breakfast is ready,” he said. “Isaac, come fill up before the actual pack of starving wolves get to it, I’ve learned from experience how they eat. Two pieces dad!” 

        Isaac hovered near the door for a moment before slinking over, shooting the sheriff a worried look as Stiles handed him a plate. When Stiles stepped into the garage briefly to grab a fifth chair, John reached over and forked several more pieces of bacon onto Isaac’s plate from the platter to join the two that he’d taken. “There’s plenty son,” John said, “just because Stiles tries to make me suffer from deprivation doesn’t mean you need to.” 

       Once they’re done and everyone was sitting around the table digging in, Isaac kept glancing around. Finally Stiles said, “What’s up Isaac?” 

       Isaac gave him a slightly panicked look, then looked around and finally said, “I’m just, Scott says he’s a werewolf, and that Jackson is too, but what about the rest of you?” 

        “Werewolf,” Derek said quietly. 

        “I’m the sheriff,” John said with his usual understated sarcasm. 

        “I’m an abominable snowman, but it’s like a seasonal thing,” Stiles said conversationally looking right at Isaac. 

         Isaac looked back unsure for a moment but then rolled his eyes, “Sure,” he scoffed disbelievingly. 

        “Naw, I’m human,” Stiles said with a grin. “Dad said no to the werewolf thing, and he won’t let me become a vampire until I turn 18. He says it’ll stunt my growth.” 

         “Shut up Stilinski,” Jackson replied almost growling. 

         “Let me know when you’re ready for seconds Jax,” Stiles quipped back, “I’ve got that can of Alpo ready for you.” 

         “I can’t wait til your stupid leg heals so I can give you an extra hundred suicides everytime you make a dog joke.” Jackson actually growls back.

         “You know the growl actually makes my dog jokes like 200 percent funnier right?” Stiles replied. 

         “Just get used to them Jackson,” Derek interjected, “This is what passes for humor with Stiles.”

         “Awww, the Cuddlewolf’s got jokes too.” Stiles says with a wide grin. “Seriously though, is everything cool with this?” he added, looking at Isaac. 

         “Way to be subtle, Stilinski,” Jackson replied. 

         “Just sit there and look pretty, Jackson,” Stiles ordered, “the adults are talking.” He turned back to Isaac. 

          “It’s-“ Isaac shrugs. “Fine?” he added a moment later, “It’s a lot.” 

          John gave him a serious look. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last night about your father, but I’d like to talk today, if it’s okay with you?” 

         Isaac nodded, “That’s fine.” 

         “Good. Did Melissa get you settled in last night?” 

         “Yeah. It’s-“ he shrugged, “yeah. So is Ridgeway a werewolf too?” 

         “No.” Stiles said, groaning. “He’s just that much better than us mere mortals. Jackson though, definitely on the werewolf steroids for the last game.” 

         “I hate you,” Jackson replied. 

         “I’m starting to feel like I’ve completely misunderstood Stiles and Jackson’s interactions for years.” Isaac said. 

         “No,” Stiles replied cheerfully. “He’s definitely a jackass and I hate him.” 

        “And Stilinski is a useless testicle,” Jackson added. 

        “But a pack is a team,” Stiles said looking at Jackson. “And we’re on the same team now, even if he’s not necessarily the person I’d choose if the choice was mine.” 

        “We all know that’s me,” Scott added. 

        “The other testicle,” Jackson scoffed. 

        “But we’re your testicles now Jax,” Stiles added. 

        “I’m going to kill you and dump your body in Mexico,” Jackson said. “I told you to stop calling me that.” 

        “Jackson, aren’t you worried people will make fun of you when you’re down to only one testicle?” 

         “Wait, How did this turn into us being Jackson’s testicles?” Scott asked. 

         “How is this my Pack?” Derek asked plaintively.

        “I complete you,” Stiles said with a laugh. 

         John sighed, “You boys clean up the dishes, Isaac and I will be in my office.” 

11am

        The condo was the least interesting option they’d seen in their quest for a house, and Allison could tell her father agreed with her while listening to the realtor talk. 

        “What do you think Alli?” he said after the realtor had finally wound down. 

         “I’d really prefer to be on the west side of the river actually,” she replied. “I mean, this place is great, and Centennial seems like a nice park, but the drive to school is longer than I’d like.” 

         “There’s not a lot available in West Beacon Hills right now, besides the ones you’ve seen.” Sandra said. 

          “Have you asked the sheriff yet?” Allison asked her dad. “He might know of something.” 

          “He only knew about the murder house,” Chris replied. “And that’s a no.” 

         “Definitely a no,” Allison said. She thought for a minute. “I guess maybe find an apartment for now, and keep looking?” 

         “I actually have a good recommendation on a rental,” Sandra replied. “There’s a lovely craftsman right on the Preserve. The owners moved to Connecticut a couple of months ago for a year, and have been looking for a renter that doesn’t need a long term rental. The price is a little high for the market but the location is outstanding.” 

         “Who should we call to see it?” Chris asked.

          “I can take you by. It’s my sister and her husband’s place. I’ve been holding onto a set of keys while they looked for a renter.” 

          Chris to to Allison who nodded at him and he said, “We’d love to take a look.” 

          Sandra gave them the address and said she’d meet them there, then Chris and Allison got back into Chris’s Tahoe and drove off toward the bridge back to West Beacon Hills. As they approached the bridge, Chris said, “Can I ask you a question and you’ll be completely honest with me?” 

         Allison looked over at him. “Complete honesty hasn’t ever been our strong suit,” she said simply. 

        “I know. I’m hoping to start something new.”

        “Alright.” 

        “What do you think of Laura?” 

        “Hale?” 

        “Of course,” he said. 

         “I like her. She’s less reserved than Satomi, not just because of her age, she doesn’t have that ‘I’m the alpha, you’re a beta’ vibe. She asks questions and wants to hear people’s opinions. Why?” 

         “She said something to me the other day. And I’ve been thinking about it. A lot actually. She said that I define the bad guys by what they are rather than their actions and desires.” He was quiet for a moment and she kept waiting but he didn’t continue. 

          “That’s not really a question,” she said.

          “I don’t treat you that way,” he said. “But do you think that’s how I see things?” 

          She was quiet as they drove over the bridge, but finally said very quietly, “I think you know it’s true. I wouldn’t have said it that way. But you’re not comfortable around werewolves. You’re barely comfortable around me. When you introduced me to Annalisa last year, you said ‘this is my daughter, don’t worry, her eyes are gold’.” 

        “She’s another Hunter,” Chris said. “I didn’t want any confusion.” 

         “It doesn’t change that you make it sound like I’m an exception to the rule rather than the rule.” 

          “Laura also thinks I should be hunting down your grandfather and other hunters who don’t follow the code.” 

           She was quiet for a time before she said, “A man once told me that ‘we hunt those who hunt us’. I guess it depends on where you draw that line at ‘us’. But the way you do it,  the Hunter way, it puts you on the opposite side from me and my pack. Whether we ever kill a human or we don’t. You define me, and every other shapeshifter, as ‘them’ by using that ‘us’.” 

         “You’ve thought about this before.” 

         “I’ve had this conversation a hundred times when wolves ask me about our relationship. They ask if you can be trusted, and every time I have to say some version of ‘he can be trusted this far, but he’ll never see you as anything other than ‘them’.”

         “You don’t think I can be trusted,” he said, and there was no question in it. 

         “For me? Yes. You rebelled against your family and your Code for me,” she paused, “but every other werewolf is ‘them’ to you. If it had been Derek that killed Kate in that basement you might not have killed him yourself, but you wouldn’t have argued with any hunter who came after him. So no, they can’t trust you.” 

         “The Code says we don’t hunt humans,” he replied sounding tired.

          “Then the Code is wrong. There’s a much simpler code to follow: Do the right thing,” she said, looking at him. “Protect anyone who needs protecting. Stop the predators no matter what species.” She looked away. “Satomi called me last night. She has these two new betas. Brett and Lorilee. A few weeks ago hunters killed their pack and burned their house while they were at school. It turns out, Brett has been seeing an older woman, one of the substitute teachers at his school, for a couple weeks in secret. Any guesses what her name was?” 

       Chris was silent. “I didn’t know, I swear. I never would have guessed she was like that,” he finally said. 

        “Do you think Gerard doesn’t know? Mom? And she’s not doing this alone, are they helping?” She sighed. “They use the Code as a shield, and you stand around wringing your hands and saying ‘the Code forbids me to kill a human’.” She was quiet for a moment before she added, “Doesn’t that hypocrisy ever bother you?” 

        He drove in silence for awhile before saying, “It’s hard to think my life may have been a lie. That I might have been wrong for all this time.”  

        “Isn’t it better to figure it out now, while there’s still time to fix it, than in another ten years, twenty years, when you’ve let who knows how many others die because you were too afraid to change?” 

         He turned down the street following the GPS, and Allison recognized the area, it was close to Lydia’s house. She took it as a good sign. 

       “You don’t have to make a decision today,” she said as they pulled into the driveway. “But what did you always tell me, ‘think about who you want to be’. Who do you want to be, dad?” 

        He looked at her and nodded as he got out of the car.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, another chapter! Trying not to divide my attention is helping. Though I did end up writing another chapter of Shade (just not the next one, which I’m still figuring out). I’m also started on writing 15 already, so I imagine it’ll be up next week.   
> I’ve been thinking about the Stiles and Jackson come to Jesus moment for awhile. Because the two should actually be friends, both being sarcastic little shits. But I didn’t want that friendship to seem too easy. I’ve also been thinking about why Jackson might dislike Scott and Stiles so much, because it’s clear his issues aren’t just Lydia related.   
> As far as Chris and Allison go, I don’t have a great opinion of Chris in S1 or S2. He shoots Scott right off, even knowing he’s not the killer, and he’s not really bothered by his father killing the omega and overthrowing the supposed Code they follow in 2. And don’t get me started on Victoria. Someday I’m going to write my rewrite of S2 that’s just a ‘how much I hate the Argents’ story, but for now, Chris gets to develop a moral center.   
> Let me know who else you’re wondering about, and any questions you have, because I live on comments, Kudos, and the sure knowledge that Derek does deserve nice things.


	15. Chapter 15

1215pm 

       Laura heard her phone start ringing and she hurried back across the warehouse to pick it up. She glanced at the unfamiliar number and answered, “Hello?” 

       “Yes, can I talk to Alpha Laura Hale please?” A man said on the other end. 

        “This is she,” Laura replied.

         “Hi, I’m Victor Gonzalez, emissary to the Gonzalez Pack in Yavapai County Arizona.” 

         “Oh, yes. Alpha Satomi told me to expect your call,” Laura said. 

          “Yes, I wasn’t able to find current information on an emissary for your territory, and my alpha will be traveling there on some personal business this week.” 

          “Yes, that’s what she said,” Laura replied. “She mentioned Tecciztecatl was wanting to meet with me as well, will he be traveling with yourself or his second?” It was a subtle way of asking if this was a territory challenge or a diplomatic visit. An alpha who was trying to be sneaky could just lie or misdirect, but most, especially the old school ones, would answer honestly.

        “Neither actually. He’s traveling on personal business, so it will be the Alpha and his eldest son and one of his daughters.” 

        “So strictly family.” 

        “Yes. He feels comfortable that the territory is quiet and no large delegation is needed for a personal visit.” 

        Laura was quiet for a moment and then said, “That might not be a safe assumption. There have been issues with a group of non Code-abiding hunters these last few weeks. I think things have calmed back down but I can’t be sure they’ll stay that way.” 

         “I see,” Victor said. “I’m not sure what you’re saying. Are you encouraging a non-allied alpha to bring a large delegation to your territory?” 

         Laura wished her mother was there. Or Satomi. Really anyone who could help her through the landmine field that was this conversation.  “Under ordinary circumstances, no I wouldn’t. But less than two weeks ago I was taken prisoner along with several other alphas. At least one alpha is dead, as well as one of the hunters, and several more hunters are in jail currently. I can’t predict what will happen next. Alpha Satomi and I are keeping a careful watch on the situation, but I can’t predict what the rogue hunters will do next. So while ordinarily I would not be thrilled to receive a large delegation from a pack I don’t know, I’d rather have a visiting alpha safe than feel comfortable.” 

       “I see,” Victor replied. “Do you mind if I go back to my alpha with this and call you back?” 

        “Please do,” She answered. “And confirm he’s absolutely welcome here, but that I just want to make sure he’s safe.” 

        “Of course alpha. We’ll talk soon.” He hangs up and she looks at her phone for a moment before she dials a new number. 

         When a voice picks up on the other end she says, “Anders, it’s Laura.” 

        “Well hey stranger!” The cheerful voice on the other end said. “How’s sunny and warm California?” 

        “You’re thinking of Southern California. Beacon Hills is far to the north. But the weather is fine today.” 

         “You’re really selling it as a tourist destination.” 

         “I’m glad my future as a tourism spokesman is assured,” she said with a laugh. “I need some information, is this a good time?” 

        “I’m always here for you, how can I help?” 

        “What can you tell me about Alpha Tecciztecatl of the Gonzalez Pack in Arizona?” 

        “What an interesting choice,” Anders replied. “Especially since his Emissary called me yesterday and asked about you.” 

        “I just talked to him myself.” 

        “Tecciztecatl is old school. Very old school. He’s honorable in his agreements, but avoids alliance. What do you want to know about him?” 

         “He’s coming here. With the problems here the last couple of weeks I recommended he bring some bodyguards with him. Is he likely to cause problems if he brings a large group with him?” 

         “I’m always leery of making a definitive statement on an alpha that’s a relative unknown, but he’s not a subtle man. If he were coming for you, he’d tell you. Whatever he wants, your pack probably isn’t the target.” 

       “Well that seems to dovetail with what Satomi said,” Laura said in relief. 

       “How’s Derek doing?” Anders said after a moment. 

        Laura was quiet for a minute then said, “Honestly he is settling into the alpha power better than I did.” 

        “Really? That seems surprising.” 

        “He was so volatile when it happened, and he’s been upset over Peter, but his control has been amazing.” 

        “I’m glad, I know you were worried. Have you made a decision about an emissary?” 

        “No. Deaton is polite and more helpful than I expected, but he’s made it clear he has no interest in being an emissary again. And honestly, I couldn’t work with him.” She sighed. “I wish Jonathan was older.” 

         “Well, I suspect he’s going to end up replacing Marnie with that pack in Brooklyn, but he might be willing to leave the city for you.” 

        “Is there anyone available that’s worth having?” she asked. “Maybe someone older with a few years left before retirement?” 

        Anders was quiet a moment. “There is someone actually. But I’m not sure she’s someone you’d work well with.” 

         “Someone I know?” 

         “Maybe. Did you ever meet Pamela Davis? The emissary for the Niagara pack?” 

         “Isn’t she a witch and not a Druid?” 

         “Yes. She was sort of a placeholder for a few years while the old emissary’s daughter finished her training. They’ve been working together for a few months and Patrice seems to be settling in nicely and Pamela is thinking about moving somewhere with less snow and cold.” 

         “I only met her in passing. And she’d need to be able to work with Derek and I both.” 

         “She’s an Iron Lady no doubt, but she’s blunt and I think she and Derek might suit well. And it gives you breathing space to find a Druid that’s willing to deal with the territory’s eccentricities.” 

         “Can you ask her if she’d be willing to come out to meet with us?” she asked. 

         “Let me give her a call. I’ll call you back tomorrow?”    

         “Thanks Anders.” 

         “Anytime Laur. Tell Derek I said hey,” Anders said as he hung up.

  
  


1230pm

       Lydia stood next to her mother in the small bungalow with the boarded up window, looking around at the mess from the home invasion and the murder investigation of her long estranged aunt. Natalie had a curiously vulnerable look on her face as they surveyed the room. 

        “Was she close to dad when they were younger?” Lydia asked her mom. 

        “No, not really. She was older than he was by more than ten years, so she was out of the house by the time he was really old enough to remember her. After college she moved to San Francisco and sort of drifted away from the family. Eventually she’d just cut everybody out. I didn’t even know she was back in town until the police called and asked him to come to identify her,” Natalie answered as she turned towards the kitchen.

        Lydia wandered towards the hallway and slipped into the first room, a small office it looked like. She glanced down at her unknown aunt’s desktop and then looked closer. Some of her notes bore an uncanny similarity to the books that Sebastian had sent her. But more complex. She picked up a couple of pages. The notes were thick and dense. Clearly not designed for anyone’s clarity but the writers, and lacking all the details that would make them explicable. A complex formula with subtle alterations and brief notes on what seemed to be results.

        She grabbed one of the thick ledgers and flipped it open, and almost gasped. This was the motherlode. Clearly a volume from a witch's personal Book of Shadows. She flipped a few pages and then looked at the row of volumes on the shelf next to the desk that matched it. She slid the book back in its place and then quickly started to search through the rest of the papers, sorting things into magical and mundane piles. 

        “Honey?” her mom said from the hallway. 

        “Just a minute mom,” she answered, and shoved the magical pile into her purse, zipped it up and quickly moved away to where her mom was walking in. 

        “I suppose I’ll have to find time next week to come try to sort through things,” her mom said. “Make sure all the bills get paid and start boxing things up to donate. At least it looks like she was fairly tidy. A lot of books, and the garage is filled with plants, so clearly she was into gardening.” 

        “Everyone needs a hobbY,” Lydia said glancing around. Satisfied that there was nothing overtly occult looking she looked back at her mom, “Did you check out the bedroom?” 

        “No, was there something in there?” 

        “I didn’t make it that far,” Lydia said, walking out and turning further down the hall. Fortunately the bedroom was boring except for a few small things that Lydia suspected might be significant. After finishing the once over, they went to leave and Lydia glanced out at the yard and the small pieces of glass from when the window broke. She knew the official story tied her aunt’s murder to Kate Argent, but she wondered if there was more to the story now that she knew her aunt was a witch of some kind. 

       She chatted with her mom as she drove, and then using the excuse of looking for gum, she slipped the key to her aunt’s house out of her mom’s purse. After lunch her mom dropped her back off at home and Lydia immediately dialed Stiles’ number.

        “Lydia?” Stiles said. “Is something wrong?”

        “I need your help.” Lydia said. “Discreetly. Do you have some time today?” 

        “Sure. I was just working on some of next week’s homework. What’re we up to?” 

        “I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes,” she said before she hung up.

 

145pm

       Lydia pulled up to the Stilinski house only a few minutes late and Stiles walked out, his limp increasingly unnoticeable. He slid into the passenger seat with only a small sound and clicked his seatbelt into place. 

        “Perfect timing oh divine one,” he said cheerfully, “”My dad and Derek just started arguing the Dodgers versus the Yankees. Escape is the only smart option. So what crimes are we off to commit today?” 

         “I’m not sure why you assume crime,” Lydia replied, slightly annoyed since in a sense it did include crime. 

         “Because we’re crime and scheming bros now aren’t we?” 

         “I’m regretting calling you already. I wonder if Jackson is free.” 

         “He’s with Laura taking care of mystery errands, too late to take back your call. Are we going to need lock picks? Guns? Masks for a bank robbery?” 

         “We need a few boxes and maybe a place sort some stuff out that’s more convenient than my grandmother’s old house.” 

        “How much space?” 

        “Like a normal table maybe a couple shelves worth.” 

        “I think I can handle that.” He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Oh alpha my alpha,” he said into the phone after a moment. Then, “Yes I know you’re busy, I just wanted to okay using one of the upstairs offices in the warehouse with you before I just took it over.” He listened to the voice on the other end then added, “Okay, so no bodies or drugs. Got it. Thanks Laura!” and hung up. “Done,” he said, “and most of them have locks if we need to keep it more secure.” 

        “Well look at you being all unexpectedly useful,” Lydia replied. “Out of curiosity, do you have guns or lock picks if we’d needed them?” 

         “Doesn’t everyone have lock picks?” he asked. 

        “No, actually.” She added after a moment, “Which is why so many people just aren’t particularly useful to know.” 

        “They lead small boring lives,” Stiles replied. “Though probably they don’t get stabbed as often as I have been this year.” 

      “You’ve only been stabbed once,” Lydia said, amused in spite of herself. 

       “It’s still January, and I’m an asshole, have some faith in your fellow man Lydia!” 

        She laughed. “I’ll try to keep the knives away from Jackson,” she replied.  

        “Sadly they’re all natural with him now. But on the plus side, we didn’t kill each other over breakfast. Then he and Scott went out to meet Laura for werewolf bonding time, and Derek’s meeting them all after the game.”

        She turned down First Ave towards her aunt’s cul de sac and pulled into the grocery store a block down. “Come along!” she said to Stiles. 

        Inside she found an employee and asked for a manager who was able to track down several medium size boxes for her, and she gestured to Stiles to carry them, though she did grab one. They managed to get them in the back of her car and sped off down the street towards the cul de sac. When she pulled into the driveway, Stiles gave her a very strange look. 

         “What is that look for?” she asked. 

         “I’m trying to figure out-“ and he stopped. “Julia Martin. Of course.” 

         “You know something,” she said. 

         “I do. You remember when Laura gave you the highlights of the last couple of weeks?” 

         Everything solidified for Lydia. “She was the witch. The one controlling Peter.” 

         “Yeah. Sorry, I mean, I don’t know how close you were but ‘mind controlling witch’ is not the family member anyone wants.” 

         “I never met her. She wasn’t close to my father. No one even knew she was in town. But I saw her Book of Shadows, and that’s something that might be useful.” 

         “Planning to learn some magic Lydia?” 

         She thought for a moment, and decided that with the world he moved in, Stiles could be useful in the magic side of things. “I’ve actually been learning about magic,” she finally said. 

         “Wait, what? Really?” 

         “I bought a book, and the seller sent me the wrong one. Then the man it was supposed to belong to came to see me. He mentioned werewolves at the school. It’s why I figured it out so easily.” 

         “Holy crap. I’ve been-“ he paused, “well, not learning magic, but about it, a bit. Got tested and approved for actual magic school.” 

         “Wait, magic school?” Lydia asked, intrigued. 

         “Well, tutor I guess. The old pack emissary is going to start teaching me.” 

         “All I got was a cryptic conversation and a few books,” Lydia complained. “Can I join your magical study group?” 

         “I’ll ask. I’m supposed to meet him tomorrow after my interview with Scott’s dad,” Stiles replied. “God I’m not looking forward to that.” 

         “Scott’s dad?” she asked as they got the boxes out of the car.

         “He’s the FBI agent who is poking into the Kate Argent crap. Apparently she committed a bunch of other crimes that she was never arrested for.” 

         “Isn’t that a conflict of interest? Since he knows you?” 

         “Not really. Since they’re not looking to try her since she’s dead, and he was the agent in charge of the investigation he’s just finishing up putting everything together and closing it up. My lawyer thinks they may be interested in finding possible co-conspirators in some of the cases.” 

           She clicked open the lock and opened the door. Leaving it open to let the slightly unpleasant scent out, they headed for the spare room. Dropping the other boxes on the floor, she started glancing through the volumes of the Book of Shadows, and she immediately noticed the difference in handwriting in the early volumes. She looked at them more closely, something familiar in the script. “Oh my god,” she said. “This is my grandmother’s writing.” She picked up another, and then another.    

        Eventually she determined the first six books were all her grandmother’s handwriting, and they were immediately more precious to her. She put them into the box almost reverently. Then slipped her aunt’s books in on top of them. Once they were done she started perusing the other books on the shelves. Many of them proved to be purely mundane in nature, but a surprising number of them were magical or magic-adjacent like books on plants and herbs. Remembering the plants in the garage she slid those into her box. Once the first one was full, she turned to Stiles who was going through the desk drawers. 

          “Can you take this one out to the car?” 

          “One moment,” he said, clearly caught up in the papers he’d pulled out. He flipped through another page and she stepped closer and glanced over his shoulder. 

          The name ‘Peter Hale’ jumped out at her, and Stiles looked up. “She didn’t find him by chance. She was hired to come here. Hired to give him a low dose of an aconite based drug everyday. I think they didn’t know she was a witch, though they clearly advised her on his ‘special nature’.”

        “Who’s ‘they’?” she asked. 

         “I’m not sure. Someone with a lot of money. She was being well paid to do it.” He handed her the account statements and the numbers were substantial.

         “You’d think she’d have found a more impressive house.” Lydia said looking around. 

         “I think she did. Look at page two of this account.” He handed her a different stack. “There’s another mortgage payment listed, with a different lender.” 

         “So where’s the other house?” Lydia asked. “And why?” 

         “My guess is somewhere on the edge of the Preserve. She had a werewolf that she was letting run loose, and all the attacks were in West Beacon and close to the Preserve.” 

         “Interesting.” 

         “Look at the payments into that first account. They’re all large. I think that’s the account for shady things. The account you’ve got there, the deposits are closer to what a nurse should be making, and very consistent twice a month.” 

        He started sorting things into two piles. “So we assume she had two lives. A mundane one and her more discreet one. Any chance you’ll let me figure out where these payments are coming from and going to?” 

         She thought about her little nest egg, and glanced at the much larger number on her aunt’s secret account. “I think taking some time to decide is a good idea.” She looked up at the name on the account and PO Box number and noticed it was in both her aunt and grandmother’s name. “And that’s very convenient,” she said with a smile. “My grandmother’s name,” she said pointing it out to Stiles.

        “You can do something with that?”

        “I think so, yes.” 

        “Alright. Mundane life shit stays on the desk. Clearly shady shit goes in the box.” He dropped the first stack inside. 

        She opened the filing cabinet and started going through it. But everything inside related to her purely mundane life. Stiles has moved onto the second drawer and she pulled open the closet doors, but aside from some clothes and jackets it’s empty. She turned back around and Stiles dumped another handful of paper in the box. 

        “There’s only things for the last couple of months here. Everything else is missing, maybe at the other house or she shredded it.”

         “She keeps her mundane records for years,” Lydia said. “So I’m guessing the other house.” 

         “Well we need to find that then.” 

         “Agreed,” she said. 

         “Nothing else?” Stiles asked.

         “Not in here.” 

         “Let’s keep looking.” He grabbed the barely filled box and they headed for the bedroom. They swept through her bedroom, and except a few things that Lydia wasn’t sure about, nothing caught their eye until Lydia opened her jewelry box. She glanced through the usual assortment of things until she opened the bottom drawer. She pulled out the box inside and flipped it open to a stunning piece. The gold was old, clearly worn in places, and had been reset with the greenish yellow gem in the center cut in a strange and possibly antique style. She reached out to touch it and felt it warm to her touch, and a moment later a soft glow could be seen in the air around it, heightening the green tone.

         “Nice trick,” Stiles said looking at her. 

         “That wasn’t me,” she replied and went to close the lid when she heard something rattle. She picked up the heavy gem and underneath was a key. She turned it over and saw a strange symbol on it. 

         “Take them both just in case,” Stiles said and she nodded. This she slipped into her purse. Glancing around one last time they hurriedly went through the rest of the house finding nothing before opening the door to the garage. 

        Her mother hadn’t lied about the garage being a garden. The counter that ran along the wall under the windows was loaded with a variety of plants.

        “This one is belladonna,” she said fingering one plant. 

         “These three are wolfsbane,” Stiles says pointing. 

         “They’re different.” 

         “There’s different varieties.” He pulled out his phone and thought for a moment before dialing. A moment later he spoke into the phone. “Alli A, I have a question about wolfsbane,” he said. He was quiet for a moment and then his voice changed. “Hi Mister Argent. Yeah, I’m looking at three wolfsbane plants and they’re obviously different, do the different kinds have different effects?” He listened to the voice on the other end for a moment. “Is there a way to figure out which they are?” He went back to listening. “Okay.” He glanced at Lydia and made a face she couldn’t quite figure out and then rolled his eyes, “Okay, I’ll bring them by the hotel later. Thanks Mister A.” Then he hung up. 

        “What was that look for?” she asked. 

        “I wasn’t sure if you wanted them to know I was with you.” 

        “Oh. That’s, maybe that’s a good idea, yes.” 

        “Okay. He says that different varieties can have wildly different effects, not all of them fatal.”  

         “Let’s leave the rest here, we can always come back for them, but take photos so we can figure out what they are.” 

         “Good idea.” Stiles answered. They did, then she gathered the three small wolfsbane plants together and slipped them into the box Stiles carried. She grabbed the rest of the empty boxes and stashed them into the closet of the spare room, and she and Stiles each grabbed a box and headed for the car.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!  
> I’m posting chapters from Freshman Fifteen and Call of the Night, plus a little extra from Nemeton’s Shade as well to celebrate the holiday.   
> I’m part-way into chapter 16, and think it should be up soon, and I’ve got a few little one offs coming as I’m trying to hit 200k posted words this year (I’m well past that on written words, but a lot of that isn’t publishable at this point).   
> This chapter went way longer than I expected, but I really love the Stiles and Lydia friendship, they’re both natural plotters, so they’re just fun to write, and making them magic!bros is just going to be a delight. So much is coming in the new year, and I’m so excited for it.   
> As usual, the only gifts I crave are your comments and kudos. Lol. Happy holidays to all of you.


	16. Chapter 16

345pm

        Laura glanced over at Derek who was draped over the bleachers, as they watched Scott and Jackson practice lacrosse with Isaac and Danny, giving the new betas a chance to learn how to pass as human while they played. She was still getting used to this new Derek, a little less closed off and defensive than he’d been since the fire. 

       “I’m going to go to Redding in the morning,” she said after awhile. “I need to officially request that Satomi release Allison to our pack, and there’s a couple of betas Satomi wants me to meet, plus she and I want to talk about what’s going on with the Argents. I should be back around two. I figured you’d want to be here for Stiles’ meeting with McCall, but I thought I’d at least ask if you want to come with me.” 

        He looked at her, his face its usual study in impassive near glaring, but she could scent the welter of emotions coming off of him. “I don’t know how this works, should I go with you?” 

        “It’s up to you, it’s not anything official, for all that it’s a Monday, this is just mostly by chance. She had a busy weekend and asked if Monday would work. They’re just new betas whose family was lost to the Argents downstate. She thought it would be good for them to meet at least one of us.” It was the truth, but not the whole truth. Satomi had also confided that her pack was reaching the limit of her capacity to be an effective alpha for them all, since she had no secondary alpha in her pack, and she had thought that with their history the Talbot Pack survivors might be a better fit with the Hales. 

        “I’ll stay here, in case anyone needs anything,” he said quietly. 

         “Then I’ll take Billy and Gary along with me, they might want to see their friends, and they’d probably like a break from Beacon Hills.” 

         He nodded, unsure what to say, turning his head back to the field. “Scott’s doing well,” he finally said after a few minutes of silence. “He has more control than I’d expect a bitten beta to have.” 

         “You’ve done a good job with him,” she said with pride, and he looked at her and smiled slightly.

        “I didn’t have to do much. He was a natural.” 

       “Do you know what his anchor is?” 

       “He says it’s the pack, but I think it’s mostly Allison and Stiles,” he replied. “It’s a work in progress.” 

        “Allison already? That’s surprisingly soon. They barely know each other.”

        “Better than you think. You know how it is. They met. They clicked immediately. They text all the time. He respects you and me, but for the power of an anchor, it’s them.”

        “And Jackson?” 

         “You’ve worked with him as much as I have. He’s got great control so far, but he’s having trouble finding an anchor. But he’s got plenty of time,” he turned and looked at her. “What has you so keyed up?”

          She sighed. “I gave Alpha Tecciztecatl permission to bring part of his pack with him. Actually, I encouraged it. I told him with the recent trouble I was worried about him coming without an escort.” 

         “And now you’re worried about us.” 

         “I’m afraid this is what he wanted. I mean, I called Anders, and he agrees with Satomi that this probably isn’t a territory grab. But the timing is-“ she shrugged. “I’m just worried about it.” 

         “You don’t think it’s just personal business?” 

         “I think it’s weird timing. And I think if it’s about territory then now is the time for him to strike. We’re back in the territory, but the pack is young and still fragile. And I just feel like something’s coming.”

           Derek looked at her, “Seriously Laura, look at our life, something is always coming. But I’m here. You’re here. We can handle it.” He put his hand on top of hers. “You heard back from the school?” 

         “They got the paperwork I should have the official deferral in a week or two but apparently kidnapping is a good way to get told ‘there won’t be a problem’.” 

        He nodded. On the field Jackson was trying hard to control his temper as Scott showboated a ridiculous flip to score. 

         Isaac was starting to loosen up slightly. He still flinched at a lot, but he seemed to have reached the point that the pack wasn’t seen as an immediate threat. Noah was working out the details to get him out of his father's control without anyone else finding out, which was Isaac’s primary concern.

         “What time tomorrow are you meeting the alpha?” Derek asked.

        “Not until late afternoon, at four.” 

        “At the warehouse?” 

        “Yeah. Are you going to be okay with being there?” 

        “I think so. I did fine with Gary and Billy. How many betas should we have there?” 

        “Allison and Billy for sure. I think keep Scott away for now. Gary might not be much of a help either, he’s going to just act bored. Definitely no Jackson until he has an anchor.” 

         Derek nodded, watching Isaac catch one of Scott’s passes.  “I guess we have a plan,” he said after a moment.

          “There’s someone who’s not on the list,” she said quietly.

          “Stiles.”

          “I know he has his interview with McCall tomorrow. And Deaton is going to be there as an acting emissary, but he’s smart and I’m curious what he’ll see.” 

          “It’s dangerous if it is a territory challenge.” 

          “Not if we group him with Deaton. Let them think he’s a trainee emissary.” 

          Derek was silent for a long time, thinking it over. The sacred nature among packs for the emissaries did keep them safe, and while it didn’t always protect those training to take on the role, no one wanted to piss off the emissary network, or worse, the Druidic First Circle. After a moment he nodded, and said, “Let’s see how he feels about it after the meeting with McCall. And maybe talk to his dad.” 

       “I was going to, I wanted to check with you first,” she said smiling. 

        “Because I’m an alpha now?” 

        “Because he’s your favorite,” she said with a laugh. 

        Derek thought about it for a moment, because that didn’t feel quite right. “Do I favor him?” 

        “Not favor exactly. But he’s the kind of person you like, a little abrasive, a little mean. But honest and fierce. Loyal. Smart.” 

         He nodded, thinking of Paige. Those were all things he valued. “I didn’t think of it like that,” he said, “I just trust him.” He thought back to Kate, and how he’d thought she’d had many of those same traits. 

         “He reminds me of dad,” she said softly, “that fierceness.”

         Derek nodded mutely, a lump forming in his throat. 

        “It’s why you like the Sheriff too,” she leaned into him, “just be aware of it. You’ve always run on instinct, always. It’s who you are. Cora was like that too, you lean into your wolf, mom said. And she meant it as a compliment.”

         “Dad didn’t.”

         “No, but she did. It’s why the full shift was easier for you than me.” 

          On the field the two humans were playing some kind of keep away from the wolves with the lacrosse ball when Jackson made an amazing leap and caught the ball almost ten feet up. The other three laughed, and for a moment Jackson’s face was open and happy when he glanced over at Laura and Derek, who had both started clapping, Laura excitedly, Derek cautiously approving. 

          

415pm

       Stiles pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and carefully stepped out. The stab wound had made him aware of how much of what he thought was clumsiness was actually just him not paying attention to what his body was doing, and slowing down to accommodate the pain had made his usual day much less full of awkward sprawling and smacking into things.

         He grabbed the box with three small plants as he got out, alone since Lydia had decided to head home. Her dad was going to be arriving soon, for the week each month he spent at home, plus she was still working on translating Kate Argent's book, which seemed to be some kind of bestiary of supernatural creatures, and was full of ways to kill them. He understood its attraction to the hunters immediately and was repulsed. 

         He walked down the hall towards Chris’s room. When he knocked on the door and it opened, he was surprised to see Allison. 

         “Hey Alli,” he said, “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” 

         “We were making the final decision on a place to live, so dad could get the paperwork started tomorrow.” 

          “Oh! What did you decide? Please say it was the witch house, cause that one sounded amazing. Think of the Halloween party!” 

           “Not the witch house,” Chris said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Defensible, but witches aren’t any more fond of hunters than wolves are, so it’s best to avoid it.” 

          “That’s too bad, the creep factor would have been amazing.” Stiles said with a gleam in his eye.

         “We found one near Lydia’s actually, a rental.” 

         “Well that gives you time to look I guess.” 

         “Right?” Allison said, smiling with dimples flashing.

         “Let’s see your plants, Stiles,” Chris said pointing to the desk which was cleared off already. Stiles slid the box into it and pulled out the first plant. 

          “That’s Northern Blue Monkshood,” Chris said looking at the leaves and stems carefully, but not touching. “Very lethal. It was my father and Kate’s preferred strain.” Stiles snapped a photo and dropped it into the notes section on his phone and made a brief note of Argent’s words. 

        He picked up the second container, his brow furrowing. “This one I don’t recognize actually. There’s a couple of varieties I know of with this red blush to the stem, but usually it is evident in the leaves too which these aren’t. Maybe when it blooms we can isolate which variety it is.” 

        He picked up the third. “This one though,” he said, “is Himalayan Black.” Chris tilted the plant back, using a pen to point out a strange nodule at the base of each leaf. “The flowers from it can cause hallucinations and paranoia, but it’s almost never lethal. It’s commonly used by some kinds of witches to induce visions of the past or future.” 

        “Fun times. I guess it makes sense she’d have that one since she was in fact a witch.” Stiles went to rub his eyes and then looked at the box of Wolfsbane and dropped his hand. 

          “So I meant to tell you, in the basement when Kate died. She had a bag with her. There were a couple guns and some cash and some books.” He stopped, not sure where he was going really.

          “Do you need help disposing of the guns?” Chris asked.

          “No, they might still be useful. More like do you want the money back? I mean it’s your family’s probably right?” 

       “No. I don’t know where it came from, but it’s blood money. Keep it. Use it when you need it. I’d like to see the books when you get a chance though.” 

       “One of them was in Latin, but I’m getting a translation taken care of. It seems to be like a supernatural bestiary.” 

         Allison looked horrified, “Do you mean-“ 

       “No!” Stiles and Chris said together in identical tones of horror. Then they looked at each other as Stiles started laughing.

        “No,” Stiles said again. “It’s a medieval catalog of beasts. Only this one was on supernatural ones and how to kill them.” 

         “The Argent Family Bestiary,” Chris said. “I have a copy in the safe in Redding too.” 

         “Any chance yours is in English?” Stiles asked plaintively. “Because I only know like ‘Carpe diem’ and veni vidi vici.” 

         “No, but my latin is good. I can help you learn it while we’re waiting for your leg to heal up enough for self defense.” 

          “Okay, yeah that would be great. All knowledge is worth having and all of that.” 

         “A lot of Hunter families use Latin for their records,” Chris said. “Since it’s a dead language it’s not likely to change, and it eliminates the confusion slang can cause in contemporary language.” 

        Stiles paused mouth open before speaking and then said, “Okay yeah, that’s actually a good reason for using Latin.” 

         Chris smiled faintly. Stiles looked down at his phone, “Crap, I gotta go. I promised my dad I’d have dinner with him and I still need to drop these off at the warehouse.” 

         “Be careful with them,” Chris said. “Even unprotected contact with the plants can cause a fatal response.” 

         Stiles shuddered. “Okay, yes, I’ll be very careful. I do not want a repeat of that. Thanks Mr Argent. Allie, I’ll see you tomorrow, I think Lydia is already planning on rearranging your schedule, so be prepared.” 

         “Why?” 

        “Well, honestly I think it’s so you can help keep an eye on Jax, but also so she can make you her new best friend and braid friendship bracelets or something. I’m not completely clear.” 

        She gave him a horrified look. “You’re kidding.” 

        “Honestly I have no idea. I think she's just curious.” He paused, “and who knows, maybe she actually wants to be friends.” 

         “She’s barely met me,” Allison replied. 

         “Beautiful people! You gotta stick together,” he said with a shrug and waved goodbye.

 

530pm

        “Dad?” Stiles said as he came in the house. He’d washed his hands thoroughly before leaving the warehouse and grabbing dinner. 

         His dad came out of the office and said, “Is that pad Thai I smell?” 

         “We hadn’t  had Thai in awhile.” Stiles said with a shrug. 

         “Good choice. Thanks for picking it up,” his dad said with a smile. “How was your date with Lydia?” 

          “It wasn’t a date, she’s with Jackson and he could probably tear my throat out now.” He paused then added, “with, like, his teeth.” He shrugged, “We’re friends, or at least as much like friends as I think she has.” 

         “Well how was your hangout, or whatever,” his dad said with an eye roll as he opened the pad Thai container and scooped some out onto a plate.

         “It was interesting. Her aunt was Julia Martin. I helped to-“ he paused, “de-supernaturalize her house.” He shrugged. “She had some books, some plants including some wolfsbane.” He looked at his dad, “In the interest of the whole ‘being honest’ thing we’ve got going on, if there was maybe some evidence that she was doing more villainous things than just enslaving Peter’s wolf and causing deaths. Is that something I should tell you about or is that a ‘go let Mr Argent know so we can clean up the details’ type of thing?” 

         His dad just looked at him for a minute while he chewed, and then after a swallow he took a deep breath and sighed. “You know,” he started, “I was looking forward to this. A dinner with my son, no werewolves or witches, or even any reminders that the most unwelcome FBI agent in the world is looking over my shoulder at work.”

         “But you like Derek!” Stiles said, unsure where this was going.

         “He’s a great kid Stiles. And I’m glad he and Laura are around to keep you and Scott from getting too out of your depth to handle. I had an actual nightmare about what would have happened if they weren’t here to keep you safe. But I love you kid, and I was expecting a dinner like we had before all the craziness began.” 

         “So I shouldn’t have brought it up?” Stiles asked.

        “No, you absolutely did the right thing by telling me. It just means you owe me another dinner where it’s just you and me with you complaining about ordinary things like your chemistry teacher and the radio in the Jeep not working.” 

        Stiles grinned and said, “I can do that, but that sounds like Wednesday night kind of conversation, it’ll never happen on a Sunday.” Then he laughed and his dad laughed with him.

        “Alright, so tell me about what you found,” Noah said, “and we’ll decide if this should involve the police.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this my writing for 2019 has come to an end.  
> Thank you all for joining along and I’ll see you in the new year with more twists and turns, and angst and fluff. As always your comments and kudos feed my soul.


	17. Chapter 17

9am 

     Stiles groaned when the alarm went off. Why did mornings never get easier? He glanced in the corner as was quickly becoming a habit, but either Derek had slept in the guest room or he’d already started his day. Stiles sighed and slowly made his way to the edge of his bed and got up. His meeting with McCall was scheduled at 10, so he had another excellent reason for missing Chemistry. And honestly, if he had to pick between douche McCall or Harris he’d take McCall everytime. He took a quick shower and made his way downstairs where he found Derek sitting at the table going over a thick stack of paperwork. 

      “What’s wagging McGruff?” Stiles said, and he grabbed a bowl out of the cupboard. 

      “You’re really trying to get mileage out of the dog jokes aren’t you?” Derek said as he flipped back and forth between two seperate pages. “I’m checking out the contract for the metal recycling company that’s going to clear the railcars and tracks from the station before I sign it.”

    “Whoa. Adulting.”

    “Every once in awhile I can’t avoid it. And it needs to get cleared out before we can get contractors in to start remodeling.”

    “Are you going to put up a fence around the whole place?” 

    “Laura and I are talking about it. Or maybe a wall closer around just the station.” 

    “Why not both?”

    “I see who woke up with siege mentality this morning,” Derek said looking up with a grin as Stiles filled the bowl to heaping with Lucky Charms. “But yeah, we’ve talked about that too. Anything else you think we should consider?”

    Stiles waited for a heartbeat before he said, “Belle’s library from Beauty and the Beast.” 

    “I think that’s a given,” Derek said smiling wider.

    “I knew I kept you Hales around for a reason,” Stiles said as he sat down.

    “Laura thinks it’s because your dad denied you a dog as a child.”

    “I think my dad thinks the same thing, and dude, way to make the dog joke yourself this time. That’s real progress!”

    “If you can’t beat them, join them,” Derek answered with his small smile. “Are you ready for today?”

    “Yeah, Laura’s lawyer is meeting me there. He’ll keep things on the up and up.I mean, I can handle McCall on my own, but the backup is good.”

     Derek snorted. “The thing is that I think you actually believe that.” 

     Stiles shrugged. “He’s not really interested in my case, he’s trying to tie up some other cases.” 

     “Stiles, he’s FBI, he’s looking for criminals so he can pad his resume. Be careful about what you say to him.”

     Stiles gave him a surprised look, “That’s-“ he paused, “yeah, I guess I hadn’t really thought of that.” 

    “It’s not his case, but if he finds a crime, he’s going to follow up, so just take it seriously.”

    “I mean, I do, but I can’t act weird about it either, he knows me, so if I’m suddenly all business, he’s going to get suspicious.” 

    Derek nodded. “True. Just be careful.”

    “Awww, big guy is worried,” Stiles said as he shoveled cereal into his mouth.

    Derek rolled his eyes and smiled fondly.

    Derek let Stiles change the subject again and he told Derek about Lydia and his visit to her aunt’s the day before. 

    “Himalayan Black?” Derek said with a frown, “I’ve never heard of it.” 

    “Argent says it’s mostly used by witches cause it’s not fatal, it just like causes visions and shit.” 

    “I wonder if it affects wolves,” Derek said.

    “I mean, probably. It’s still wolfsbane,” Stiles looked at him. “What are you thinking?” 

    “Just thinking about possibilities.” 

    “Like using it recreationally?”

    Derek snorted. “I was thinking more like if we needed to use it on a werewolf.” He paused, “Though recreational drugs for weres are pretty uncommon, most of them we burn out of our system pretty fast.” 

    “Well now I feel like my future career as a drug kingpin to four-footed is assured,” Stiles said with a laugh. “I can’t wait to tell my dad!” 

     “As a bonus, none of them will be illegal. Probably,” Derek answered with another grin. 

      “Oh! Good point! He always tells me not to get arrested, so it’s perfect!” 

      Derek laughed and his face grew serious. “Did Laura talk to you about the alpha that’s coming to town?” 

       “Yeah, she asked if I wanted to be there?” 

       “And you said no, because you have a sense of self preservation and we don’t know what he wants?” 

        “Hmmm. I guess that’s one possibility. Or I said for sure because I’m already out of school today and was supposed to meet Deaton anyway, so two birds one stone.” 

        “It’s probably nothing. It’s a courtesy he wants to meet. Alphas travel through each other’s territory pretty regularly.”

        “That’s what Laura said. But-“ Stiles paused, “I felt like maybe there was something she wasn’t saying.”

         Derek was quiet for a moment, weighing what to say and what not to say, then opted for honesty, “It’s just the timing.” 

         Stiles studied the man for a moment, thinking it over. “Because of the thing with the Argents. Do you think he’s involved?”

        “More that she’s worried he’s going to take advantage. The politics of the situation are murky.”

        “Because of the fire?”

        “Partially. My mom was a strong alpha. She had alliances all over the west. And her close allies like Satomi tend to take a strong defensive position, while her weaker allies kind of disappeared. But generally no one has tried to take the territory because most of the alphas who’d benefit were her close allies already.”

        “But Laura’s building a pack now,” Stiles said, jumping several steps of logic to the real change.

        Derek nodded. “And the pack is still young and the bonds are weak. And it’s not well known yet that I’m an alpha now too so we look even weaker.” 

       “So if someone were going to act, now is the time.” 

       “Exactly. Now would be the time, so this visit-” 

        “But Laura told him to bring part of his pack,” Stiles said, interrupting.

        “A small part but yeah. With hunters in the area, it’s best to be cautious.” 

        “So you don’t think he’s a real threat.” 

        “No. But my history of recognizing threats isn’t good.” And then he whispered, “And after almost losing Laura, I’m afraid.” 

         “But Laura’s safe. And she said that as a potential emissary in training with Deaton I’d be safe, even if things went wrong. That emissaries were safe if there was conflict between packs,” Stiles said.

        “Yes they are.” 

        “So you’re just worrying for nothing.” 

        “Probably.”

        “He’s probably here for a leaf picking festival or something.”

        “There’s no leaf picking festival in Beacon Hills,” Derek said dismissively.

        “There should be, it would make cleaning the oak leaves out of the gutters easier. In January. Normal trees lose their leaves in October.” 

        Derek laughed and Stiles finished his breakfast. Derek drifted back to his paperwork and a few minutes later Stiles glanced at the clock and cursed and then ran back up the stairs, relieved that his leg was feeling better. He threw on a hoodie and jeans, and shouted goodbye as he ran out the door.

 

10am

       Laura’s lawyer ‘just call me Robert’, spent several minutes in the sheriff's office going back over his instructions to Stiles. 

       “Just remember, only answer the questions he asks you. Don’t go off topic, don’t volunteer more than enough to answer the question. Don’t lie, but don’t over answer either.”

        Stiles snorted. “I have ADHD, over-answering is almost inevitable, but I’ll try and control it.” 

        “You’ll do fine,” Robert said. And Stiles wondered if he was really as confident about that as he sounded. 

       Stiles glanced over when his dad walked through the door and said, “He’s ready for you.” 

        They walked down the hall to one of the interview rooms. Stiles and Robert sat on one side across from Rafe, and Stiles looked at his best friend's father carefully. He hadn’t spoken to the man in years, and had only seen him in passing a couple of times since he’d been in town.

       “Stiles, thanks for coming in.” 

       “Well it’s my pleasure, special agent, really. I was looking forward to missing school to talk about the third worst day of my life again.” 

       “I was hoping you’d be able to answer my questions without your usual level of sarcasm,” Rafe replied, bristling a little.

        “And I was hoping you could ask questions without the usual level of stupid, so it looks like we’re both going to be disappointed today,” Stiles replied. Next to him he heard Robert make a short sound that might have been an expression of horror or a stifled laugh.

        Rafes face grew stoney. ”Okay then, so as a courtesy I’ll clarify that while this conversation is being recorded, this is not part of an active criminal case, but may be used in connection with past or future cases as the need arises. Can you please state your name?” 

       “Stiles Stilinski.” 

       “Sorry, your full legal name please.” 

       “Oh god, okay, Miecyzslaw Jonathan Stilinski, but call me Stiles if you want me to answer.” 

       The questions ranged widely over the time since Stiles had first met Laura. Surprisingly there weren’t any questions he had to lie about, until they got to the actual day of the shooting. But even those were fairly innocuous. A couple hours later Stiles had answered all of Rafe’s questions and they had finished up with a minimum of help from Robert. As he stood up to leave Rafe said, “Stiles can you hold on for a minute. It’s about Scott.” 

        Stiles glanced at Robert then said, “That doesn’t sound like it’s connected to your investigation.” 

        “It’s not, it’s just, I don’t think you’d be very welcoming if I stopped by your house to talk about him.” 

        Stiles was silent for a minute, trying to decide how he wanted to answer. “Fair,” he said, “Okay, but not here. Put your things away, or whatever you need to do and we can walk down to the Starbucks and talk about whatever you want to say about Scott. I’ll be in dad’s office.”

         Robert led him back to his dad's office and once the door was closed, he turned to Stiles, “Do you think this is legitimate or is he trying to talk to you without a lawyer present?” 

        “I don’t know. He’s been trying with Scott while he’s been in town. It’s not going well. I think that’s probably what this really is about.” 

         Robert pursed his lips and nodded. “Okay, but you’ve got my cell, if he brings up the case, call me and don’t answer his questions.” 

        “Got it,” Stiles said, “and thank you.” 

        “Laura has me on retainer, so if something else happens, call me,” Robert said, and then he shook Stiles hand and left.

        Stiles sat on the couch across from his dad’s desk and leaned back into it. Thinking about the interview, the questions Rafe hadn’t asked jumped out. It was almost like the man had been directing attention away from the holes in the official story and evidence. The more Stiles thought about it, the more it troubled him, and led him to the conclusion that Rafe was trying to hide something, and the only thing that made sense was that he was trying to protect the Argents and their hunter allies.

       A few minutes later Rafe knocked on the office door and Stiles got up and opened it. “So coffee,” he said. 

       “Coffee,” Rafe replied. 

       “This isn’t some sneaky way to get me to admit I broke some law like last week I broke curfew and went to Toms at 1am?” 

       “That’s between you and your dad.” 

       “Eh, he can be bribed with steak into looking the other direction.” 

        “Sounds like this town is going to the wolves,” Rafe replied.

        Stiles barely resisted his urge to flinch, and said, “Wow, a joke, that’s real character growth. It’s true though. I saw someone walking their dog off leash just last week.” 

        “Be careful Stiles, you know what they say about laying down with dogs.” As they walked out of the station and Rafe’s face grew tense and he added, “I know you’re not my biggest fan.” 

         “A-plus on that understatement,” Stiles replied, his mind racing from Rafe’s warning. He wondered how much the man knew. Was he a hunter himself?

         Rafe nodded, “I should have been around more.” 

         “At all. You should have been around at all. When Scott turned ten and you promised to come, and then had to cancel because of some case? I’d pick something more recent but there hasn’t been anything.” 

        “I know,” Rafe replied, “But he stopped taking my calls.” 

        “That doesn’t mean you stop trying to call, what are you, 11? Couldn’t you take 15 minutes out of your busy life hunting down the supposed bad guys to call him?” 

        Rafe was quiet for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. But giving him space seemed easier at the time.” 

        “It was easier,” Stiles replied. “And now here you are.” 

        “There’s something I need to talk to him about. But he’s not really talking to me again.” 

        “Probably because you were a dick again.” 

       “Did he say something to you?”

       “I’m not going to tell you what Scott says to me. Because if you’ve missed it, I’m 110% on his side.”

        “Fair enough,” Rafe was quiet for awhile as they walked down the street. “My dad is in town,” he finally said.

        Stiles mouth opened and then closed. Struck speechless. “Okay, non sequitur what?” 

        “My father. He wants to meet Scott.” 

        “Your father. The guy who’s refused to ever meet Scott? The guy who told Melissa your marriage wouldn’t last? The guy who wrote Melissa a fucking check the day your divorce was final? That guy?” 

        “I only have the one.” 

        “Wow. Okay. I was just making sure.” He paused, “Wow.” He added after a moment, “Even taking a minute to think about it, I’m still astonished.” 

        “How can I get Scott to come to dinner with him?” 

        “Well, I assume making your dad apologize to Melissa is out of the question?” 

        “Probably, yes.” 

        “Have you considered just doing what you normally do and go back to ignoring him when he stops talking to you?” 

        “Not this time.”

        “Okay well, then telling Scott he can say anything he wants to your father might do it. That’s an opportunity he might not miss.” He thought for a moment, “It’s too bad you already ruined the college fund thing, this would have been the perfect time to use that.” He held the door to the coffee shop open for Rafe.

         “You think I should have used that as bribery?” 

         “You did try to use it as bribery, like a bad parent trying to buy affection. And look how that went for you. Congrats, by the way, you fail as a good parent and as a bad parent. Way to go!”

         “I haven’t really missed talking to you.” 

         “And yet here we are,” Stiles replied, unfazed. “I’m not sure what else you expected from me. You wasted your chance, so now use what might work. Tell him he can say what he wants. It’s Scott not me, so you know he won’t say anything too terrible.”

        “You don’t have any better ideas?” 

        “Hey, I gave you the best idea I had. Well, besides offering to let him sucker punch you a couple times, but I didn’t think that was a  man  option. God, how do you ever get anything done? Look, you can’t guilt him with obligation, because he doesn’t feel obligated to you for anything. And he has no interest in meeting your dad. So bargaining is the only thing you have.”

       “Is this what you do?” Rafe asked. “Just move him around like a chess piece?” 

        “No, I don’t need to, that’s not my style. We’re best friends, we’re brothers. We are on each other’s side. If I needed something I’d just ask him.”  

         “Sometimes I don’t know if you’re the best or worst thing to ever happen to Scott.” 

         “Well, I’m pretty confident with you as an option I’m not the worst thing. Though Melissa for a mom definitely rates pretty much the best.” 

         “I’m not the enemy Stiles,” he said as the line inched forward by one person.

         Stiles looked at McCall, the loathing naked on his face. “You know that line, that every villain thinks he’s the hero of the story?” 

         “I’m not the villain,” Rafe answered.

         “You’re not the hero either,” Stiles started, “I think maybe Scott’s got the right idea on it, he says, ‘the bad guy is the one who leaves’. And that’s basically your MO.”  

       “What I did, I did for Scott.” 

       “Whatever you tell yourself Special Agent,” Stiles said and stepped out of line, turned around, and walked back out of the coffee shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long delay, I have been sort of slacking, but also working out some long term storyline issues with Nematons Shade, as well as an original story that I’ve been working on. The other day I woke up with the full storyline of a 25ishK story idea in my head, so I’ll probably post that eventually. I also donated two fics to a charity event happening in February so I’ve been feeling nervous about what I’m going to be writing for that. Plus my cousin has asked for a fic with a particular set of parameters and I’m sort of working through the details on that idea as well.   
> But 17 is done, and I’ve been struggling the last couple of days to get back into Laura’s POV for 18. If I’m not able to nail it I might switch over and write the next chapter of Shade. So we’ll see.   
> Happy 2020to you all, hopefully I’ll get another 200k up here this year.


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